A Class Act
by Wai-Jing Waraugh
Summary: Convinced that Marinette snubbed her at a student meeting, Chloe plots revenge by attempting to steal her diary again - and succeeds! What will happen after she reads an entry out to the entire class? How will Adrien react? Chloe also crosses paths with a new teacher, who comes off worse-for-wear; a new akuma appears! With all eyes on her, can Marinette save the class as Ladybug?
1. Chapter 1

_Hi there, Miraculous fans! I'm pretty new to this fandom, but I've been around the site for a while, and my readers should be pretty much used to the fact that I keep starting new stories instead of finishing old ones! I have some ideas for stories starring Ladybug and Chat Noir, so I figured I might as well start sharing them with you!_

 _The basic premise of this story is: while watching the episode 'Darkblade' (one of my favourites!) I began thinking, what would happen if Chloe succeeded at getting Marinette's diary? This story follows that scenario. It also explores what I think could potentially happen after the events of series 1, and builds on some of the relationship developments between Marinette and Adrien. I don't think anyone will object to reading about that!_

 _Some quick notes before we get started. Concerning language/translation, I watch Miraculous episodes in French, purely out of preference. Because of that, I will use a lot of the French terminologies (ie. Chat Noir instead of Cat Noir, Chronogirl instead of Timebreaker, etc) since I am more familiar with them; except for where the sudden use of French words seems to get in the way of the English narrative and becomes intrusive (ie. Copycat instead of_ _L'Imposteur). I suppose what I really mean is, I just use whatever I like according to my taste - as a disclaimer, I don't speak French! If it bothers people too much, I can change it all to the English versions._

 _As mentioned, this story is set at the end of Series 1, post-'Volpina', so if you don't want spoilers, you probably shouldn't read this!_

 _I think that's everything, so without further ado, enjoy! ~ W.J._

* * *

 **A Class Act**

 **Chapter One**

"It's not fair!" Chloe raged, flinging an expensive handbag across the room; it landed on a cushion-covered chaise lounge with a soft ' _flump_ '. Resisting the urge to check that it wasn't scuffed, she seized a handful of berets from a hat rack and threw them angrily on the ground, taking care not to tread on them as she stomped across her luxury suite.

"How dare she try to boss me around - me, the mayor's daughter! She won't get away with this!"

This declaration made her feel like a cartoon character - a thought that pleased her, though it didn't occur to her that she more closely resembled a moustache-twirling villain than the damsel she considered herself to be. Nor did she realize how out of proportion her dramatic statement was, compared to the cause of her distress.

"Just because she's the president..."

* * *

The student council had gathered in the library's main conference room to decide on the theme for their new after-school club. There were already plenty of pre-existing clubs, dedicated to various interests and open to students from every grade; however, each class was allowed to form one club of their own, based around a unique theme that they would choose just for themselves.

Class President Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Vice-President Alya Césaire had dedicate two meetings to this momentous decision - rightly so, as they soon found out. The students all had their own ideas on what sort of club they should form, and few of them were in agreement with one another.

Rose was keen to create an extension of the scrapbooking club, until Kim and Ivan both claimed a strong aversion to glitter. Nino proposed a film studies group, a suggestion that Juleka enthusiastically backed; Mylene, however, pointed out that they would watch nothing but horror movies, a prospect that she just couldn't stomach. The idea of a music-appreciation club was bandied about, though its supporters were split: half liked hard-rock acts like Jagged Stone and Zombies of Death, while the rest preferred XY-style electronica. Alix wanted to form a roller-derby team, causing everyone to quickly stifle groans.

Marinette dutifully wrote down all these possibilities, trying not to let the chalk squeak on the ancient blackboard they had at their disposal. Having written 'roller derby' in small letters near the bottom of the board (where it would hopefully be forgotten), she turned to face her classmates.

"Are there any more suggestions?" she asked, already feeling a bit weary of the whole business. So far, none of the options seemed very promising. What was supposed to be a 'simple' decision was turning into a long, drawn-out affair; they weren't even close to settling on a theme. Besides, a certain _someone_ had been uncharacteristically quiet so far, and she suspected that blissful silence wouldn't last...

"Why is this taking so long?! Isn't it _obvious_?"

Marinette sighed; the rest of the students made similar gestures of dismay. _Speak of the devil._ Of course it was Chloe who had spoken. She sneered at her classmates, letting them know what hopeless dupes they were with a single look.

"It should be a fashion club, naturally - after all, there is no finer pursuit in life than that of the perfect outfit! I'm surprised that no such club exists, and I will take it upon myself to fix this terrible deficit, as club president - after all, it is _my_ genius idea! Of course, there will have to be strict conditions for club membership... oh, I'll be lenient and make it only _one_ piece of designer couture per person. By the way, Sabrina, I want that beret I lent you back - it wasn't a gift!"

"Yes, Chloe," Sabrina meekly acquiesced.

The others glared at Chloe resentfully. Besides having little interest in high-fashion, nobody else owned any designer clothing... well, _almost_ nobody...

"Adri-kins, we could each wear a different outfit every day!" Chloe simpered in her most sickly-sweet voice, clinging to one of his Agreste-clad arms.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously with his free hand, resisting the urge to wrench away from her grasp; her manicured nails were very sharp - _nearly_ as sharp as Chat Noir's, a comparison that he could personally vouch for.

"The privilege of being a designer's son," he said, cringing inwardly as he invoked the much-used celebrity label he always - quite literally - wore. Well, _almost_ always; he _did_ have one outfit that was completely off the wrack. "Perhaps some other theme would be better, though. A topic that not many others have an interest in-"

"What could be more interesting to anyone than fashion?!" Chloe demanded. _Why wasn't he agreeing with her, like he was supposed to?_ Here she was, giving him the perfect excuse to have their own private club to themselves-

"I have no interest in fashion that excludes other people," Adrien replied flatly, finally extricating his arm from hers.

Chloe gasped in mute shock. Around them, the rest of the students murmured, eying them with interest. Though it was openly known - by practically everyone except Chloe - that Adrien detested her almost as much as anyone else, it was rare for the class 'glamour pair' to have an outright argument.

"Hey, you know who wouldn't be excluded?" Alya interposed, giving Chloe, her hated nemesis, a sly smirk. "Our own class president, Marinette! After all, who designed the derby hat that was approved by no less than Gabriel Agreste himself?"

"A design that had to be revised-" Chloe hastily shot back, unpleasant memories of her humiliation resurfacing at the mention of _that_ incident. If only that _stupid_ seamstress had had the sense to change the embroidery to spell out her _own_ name...

"A switch from real feathers to synthetic," Adrien apologetically explained. "Hypo-allergic, and just as good-looking!" He winked at Marinette, who flushed happily at the praise. She had to resist the urge to say out loud who she really thought was 'just as good-looking' in fake feathers.

"Right, a technical adjustment," Alya declared, seizing on Adrien's statement. "Tailoring her masterpiece to the wearer, just like a _real_ designer would! Since she is a designer herself, she is automatically eligible for your club membership, along with anyone else she makes clothes for!"

"That would be great!" Mylene piped in, smiling ecstatically. "The hat you made for Papa was wonderful - I'd really like to see what else you can do!"

The other students, impressed by this endorsement, eyed Marinette with looks that ranged from curiosity to hope. She heaved an inward sigh. She could practically see visions of a bespoke all-pink wardrobe shimmering in Rose's eyes; Sabrina, darting nervous glances at her best friend, was fiddling with the brooch on her jumper, perhaps picturing a new one she could pin it to; both Kim and Alix appeared to be on the verge of requesting an entire range of sportswear.

 _School work, student council, saving Paris - and on top of all that, now I'm supposed to be a seamstress as well!_

"I'm sorry," she said, quickly jumping in before things could get out of hand. "Between school and my duties as class representative, I just don't have time to come up with clothes for everyone at such short notice - though I can make them eventually, if you're all willing to wait. Before that, though, we should select a theme that suits as many people as possible. I guess we'll adjourn for today, everyone; but please, think it over some more tonight. We'll meet again tomorrow and take a final vote on the club theme then. I'll set up a ballot box, which you will be able to put suggestions. It won't be possible to rig or falsely influence," she quickly added; Chloe found that, for some reason, she directly at her as she said this. "After the votes have been counted, I'll officially approve our choice and inform the principal of our decision. For now, though, I think we're done."

The meeting broke up into small groups, chatting and eating snacks. Rose and Mylene began handing out cups of juice and plates of cookies - the latter baked fresh at the Dupain-Cheng bakery that very morning.

"You know what theme _I_ want to suggest?" Alya asked, released from her need for a vice-president's impartiality. She took the cookie Nino offered her with a wink, then gently nudged her best friend with her elbow.

"I can hardly guess," Marinette said, with a mildly-teasing smile; she knew exactly what usually lay at the forefront of her best friend's mind. "A blogging tutorial? I'm sure lots of people would be eager to learn from you-"

"No, silly!" Alya laughed, holding up the remnants of her choc-chip-dotted cookie to illustrate her point. "I'd want a Ladybug club, dedicated to the patron protector of Paris!"

She spoke loud enough for the rest of the room to hear; there were a few murmured assents among the group. Marinette hoped that no one noticed the roots of her hair turning red. _I'm flattered to be so popular_ , _but this could prove to be rather awkward..._

She realized that Alya was looking at her meaningfully, expecting her to give her some support. "Oh! T-that would be cool, but... Y-you might have to make it a Ladybug-and-Chat-Noir club, to cover everyone's interests..."

"Who'd want a club dedicated to that mangy, unimaginatively-dressed goofball?" Chloe said, in a scornful tone. She actually _liked_ the idea of a Ladybug club, but would never admit as much out loud; she would rather burn her entire wardrobe to ashes than openly support something that _Alya_ had suggested.

"He deserves a club of his own," Marinette shot back; to her own surprise, her temper was rising rapidly. Chloe's words and actions - as Antibug - against Chat were still vivid in her memory, and she found that she was unexpectedly protective of her ally; she supposed watching him dangle in the air several floors above the street would inspire such sympathy. Even if she found Chat Noir faintly irritating sometimes, he was still her partner; he always had her back, and of course she had his in return. She felt it was her duty to defend him, even when he wasn't here to witness it.

"He protects the city, just like Ladybug does," she pointed out, boldly staring Chloe down. "Didn't he save you a couple of times, Alya?"

Alya nodded in solemn agreement; even if her blog was devoted to Ladybug, her enthusiasm extended to Chat Noir as well. "Yep. He stopped a set of goal posts from hitting me; and a car narrowly missed crushing me before he stopped it."

"Another reason I don't like him," Chloe muttered under her breath. Alya pretended not to hear her. Across the room, Ivan nonchalantly sipped his juice, not looking in their direction; Mylene patted his hand comfortingly.

Adrien took advantage of this distraction to slip across the room. Chloe had cornered him to ask his opinion on blazers versus bomber-jackets, apparently trying to impress the need for a fashion club on him, to his chagrin; he had been trying to edge closer to the table of cookies for the past five minutes.

"Well, if Alya doesn't want to give us blogging tips, perhaps I could step in and teach Mandarin instead?" So saying, he grabbed the last cookie from Nino's plate, earning himself a poke in the ribs from his best friend. Ignoring the jab - it was worth it! - he took a large bite out of the cookie, grinning at Marinette all the while. "If not enough people are interested to form an entire club, maybe I could still give you some lessons, Marinette? If you want to learn, that is..."

Marinette smiled until her dimples practically ached. "That would be great," she said instantly, making an effort not to seem too overly eager. "I don't know if I'll be a very good student... I tried to learn from an app on my phone once, it was a complete disaster!" Adrien chuckled at the thought; so did she, ruefully, remembering her garbled efforts to speak with her uncle. "I'll try my best. I'm sure having a real, _human_ teacher would help a lot!"

Of course, she earnestly meant what she said; but then, having not just _any_ human, but _Adrien_ helping her, was a better prospect than most! Despite any ulterior motives she might have - _an excuse to be alone with Adrien!_ \- she really _did_ want to learn from him. She appreciated beyond words how he had helped her talk to her Uncle Cheng, and had supported her when he had been disgraced on live television - thanks to a _certain someone's_ actions. She certainly hadn't forgotten how Adrien had spoken up when Chloe had insulted Cheng-sifu's cooking and his nationality - a racial slur that had hurt Marinette almost as much. At the time, she had been rendered momentarily speechless by this new low that Chloe had stooped to; before she could even think up a response, Adrien had already jumped in on her behalf. Considering how he had once counted Chloe as something akin to a friend, Marinette had been surprised by how quickly and completely he had taken her side - _almost_ as surprised as she had been when she found out he spoke fluent Mandarin.

 _Is there any way at all in which he's not perfect?_ she wondered, a slight rose-coloured haze slowly forming before her eyes. _Well, I guess there's the allergy to feathers, but that's not really-_

"I'm still only learning," Adrien admitted, breaking in on her thoughts, "so I'm not sure if I'll be a very good teacher..."

"I'm sure you'll be great," Marinette assured him. "I know how busy you are with modelling, so maybe my mum could give me some pointers when you're not available. We could both practice what we learn on her, and we could maybe Skype my Uncle Cheng in Shanghai, if he's not too-"

"I would be very honoured to speak with Cheng-sifu again," Adrien agreed, giving her a slight bow. Marinette melted a little inside, but succeeded admirably at staying upright.

Alya looked on proudly. Her little Marinette had made so much progress - speaking to her crush, and in coherent sentences no less! It was a drastic transformation. Alya had seen Marinette and her uncle on tv, with Adrien acting as translator; afterwards, her best friend had told her how she and Adrien had chatted between studio takes, and even sat down to try Chef Cheng's together soup after filming wrapped up. _A private dinner-date, catered by a celebrated chef - oh la la!_ Alya thought, with a palpable sense of triumph. If Marinette could just keep her head long enough, those Mandarin lessons could soon turn into a _proper_ date!

She grinned at the thought, managing to catch Nino's eye; they shared a virtual high-five, watching their respective besties chat away like almost-more-than-friends. She'd have to tell him later about all the pastries Marinette still owed her for setting up Adrien as Cheng's translator in the first place.

Across the room, Chloe silently seethed. Ever since that stupid cooking competition - which had been unfairly decided, without _her_ expert opinion - that _disgusting_ purple soup on the menu at her father's hotel was not the only thing she found hard to swallow. She'd noticed, with increasing fury, that Adrien and Marinette had been talking to each other a lot more of late. Even worse, she might be just imagining it, but she could _almost_ swear that he had seemed slightly less entranced with Chloe herself since then. And now _this_ \- Marinette had shamelessly stolen her own plot to have Adrien all to herself!

Deciding she had suffered through more than enough slights for one afternoon, she turned and stormed out of the room. Sabrina, helping Juleka collect discarded cups and plates, hastily called after her to wait up, and was flatly ignored.

Rose, dutifully distributing the snacks, pressed a cup of fruit juice into Chloe's hand as she passed. She snatched it without thinking, then looked at it in disgust.

"Grape juice - ugh! I _detest_ all things purple!" She stalked out of the conference-room and flung the full cup at the first trash-can she saw.

"Excuse me, are you the student representative? You'll need to finish up soon, the room is-"

Of course Chloe's aim was spot on; she could boast that her accuracy with a yoyo was just as good as Ladybug's - perhaps even better. It was the new teacher-librarian's fault for stepping in the way at just the wrong time.

The poor woman was splashed with juice from head to toe; it ran from her hair, dripped down her glasses, and formed dark stains on the scarf knotted at the neck of her blouse.

"Ack-! Oh no!" she exclaimed in horror, trying to shake off the vibrant splotches that were blooming all over the fabric. It was no good; the drink had already seeped into the pale silk, ruining it.

"Watch where you're going!" Chloe snapped, eyes sweeping critically over her. "And get a new scarf - that thing is hideous! I'll have you know that I'm the mayor's daughter, and I refuse to have to look at teachers who have little-to-no dress-sense!"

With a callous toss of her ponytail, she strode off to her waiting chauffeur-driven limousine.

* * *

At the memory of the afternoon's events, Chloe furiously snapped a nail-file in half (her manicure was thankfully unharmed, and she had plenty more files to spare).

 _Damn that Marinette_! What she needed was something to bring her down a peg, put her back in her rightful place...

Angrily sweeping the objects on her desk onto the carpet, Chloe suddenly stopped, a journal with a quilted Chanel cover clutched in her hand. Slowly, a devious smile spread across her lips.

 _Perhaps it was time to revisit her father's fail-safe campaign tactic..._

She began to reach for her phone, then changed her mind. That _stupid_ Sabrina, she had stuffed it up the last time! This time, she would do it herself, and do it properly - even at the risk of ruining her nails.

As she looked about the dishevelled room, she realized that she had just the things she needed, all ready at hand...

But first, she should call a butler to tidy up the place; the room was totally trashed. It looked like Ladybug and Chat Noir had been fighting an akuma all over the suite!

* * *

"The student council?" Mrs Sabine Dupain-Cheng repeated.

She deftly dropped a flaky croissant into a bag, twisting the paper corners closed with a practiced motion; she handed it to a waiting customer with a warm smile. As the bakery door jingled shut, she gave the girl on the other side of the counter her full attention.

She looked about Marinette's age, dressed in a black-and-white striped top and a bright yellow jacket. Her hair didn't look natural; it was long and dark-brown, while the carefully-plucked eyebrows visible behind her bangs were much fairer.

 _The lengths young people go to for fashion these days!_ Sabine thought wryly to herself. Luckily, her own daughter wasn't as frivolous as that! Though she didn't recognize the girl, she couldn't help but think that she seemed strangely familiar. She wasn't any of Marinette's friends that she knew; maybe she had been into the shop before? She certainly wasn't one of their regular customers...

"Yes!" Chloe said with false cheer, hoping she came across as a friendly, do-gooder student. She casually raised a hand to her head, making sure her wig was still on straight. She had bought it a week ago, after a new super-heroine had appeared atop the Eiffel Tower - so stylish, in an orange and white suit with a slimming belt, and she had even begun to destroy those ugly old buildings across town! Chloe still liked Ladybug best, of course; but it would be nice to have more than one superhero outfit to choose from!

Unfortunately, Volpina had vanished soon after her debut, but Chloe had hung onto the wig - now she was very glad she'd had such foresight! After all, she _was_ a well-known figure about town. She had no doubt that Mrs Dupain-Cheng would recognize her in her normal guise; and with the rivalry with her daughter going back well into primary school, there was no way she would gain entry to Marinette's room as herself. She needed a disguise... and a false name too...

"My name is... um... er... Nicole! Yes!" she said now, inventing her new identity as she went. Seeing the trusting expression on the woman's face, she was emboldened by the lie, glibly telling another one. "I, er, I'm the president of a different class, and I want to check what club the students are forming, in case we end up with the same theme - we'd each want to have something unique!"

"That's a good idea," Sabine said politely, wiping stray crumbs from a display case full of macaroons. "But I'm afraid you just missed Marinette. She's looking after the daughter of a friend this afternoon; they just went down to the park together. If you go after them-"

"No!" Nicole - Chloe - said hastily. "I mean, erm, I just saw them there on my way here! Marinette said the list of club suggestions was on her desk. I have her permission to go up and take a look at it - if it's alright with you...?"

She batted her lashes innocently at Marinette's mother. As she did, she was thinking: _What a horrible blouse! Mandarin collars and frog buttons are so passé - unless you want to dress as an antique!_

"Go right ahead," Sabine said, not suspecting anything. "It's through that door, up the second flight of stairs. If you want, I can take you-"

"No! N-no, don't trouble yourself, I can find it!"

Chloe took the stairs up to Marinette's inner sanctum, eagerly rubbing her hands together all the while.

The room was disgustingly pink. _Ugh,_ Chloe spluttered, staring about her in horror, _how old does she think she is?! No wonder she still dresses like a child!_ With a sense of satisfaction, she compared the sickly pastel palette to her own far-superior room; the fuchsia accents on her furnishings were elegant and mature, unlike this juvenile nursery, better suited to toddlers.

She quickly scanned the room, searching for a familiar box. If she remembered right, Sabrina had found it on the desk...

She spotted it, sitting there innocently, open and unlocked. The diary rested inside, deceptively unguarded. _Oh ho_ , Chloe knew better!

 _Not this time!_ she promised herself, searching for something useful. This would do: an ugly, purple plastic ruler. Pinching it carefully by its very edge, she eased it over the lip of the box, pressing down with the slightest bit of pressure-

 _Snap!_

The box slammed shut, or tried to; the ruler was jammed sideways in its lid, leaving a slight gap. _Hopefully, it would be just wide enough..._

She certainly wasn't going to attempt it with her bare hands - only a fool like Sabrina would do that! Instead, she reached into her purse, pulling out a pair of tweezers. This was the tricky part, where the true extent of her excellence would need to come to the fore! She poked the tweezers into the gap, prodding and poking, trying to get a grip on the diary's edge.

Suddenly, the lid of the box shuddered. Chloe gasped, hastily snatching her fingers back; she let go of the tweezers, which fell inside the box.

She gave an impatient snarl. It would be too dangerous to try to get them back. They were a good pair, too, edged with real 24-carat gold! Well, no matter; she could always get a new pair. As for the box, she had come more than prepared - sheer, ruthless determination had inspired her! She dipped into her purse again, this time extracting a pair of eyelash-curlers. She was glad she had only brought the 18-carat ones, in case they were disposed of the same way as tweezers - no need to be wasteful!

It took a good ten minutes of careful manoeuvring. If she had seen her reflection in the mirror over Marinette's dressing table, she would have given up almost immediately: her brow was furrowed in concentration, her tongue sticking slightly out, an unbecoming sheen of sweat formed on her carefully-moisturized skin.

At last, she managed to get one end of the diary clear of the lid. Barely daring to get her precious manicure close, she grasped it carefully, dragging it out little by little... she _almost_ had it...

 _Snap!_

The box clamped shut; the ruler shot free, landing at the foot of the dressmaker's dummy across the room. Chloe fell over backwards with a startled squawk. As she sat sprawled on the floor rug, struggling to recover from the shock, it took her a moment to realize that the pink-spotted journal was clutched in her hands.

Quickly stifling a triumphant whoop, she took it and ran, clambering back down the stairs, bursting out of the back door onto the street. She almost ran straight into a woman who happened to be passing by.

"Yow! Watch it, young lady!"

Chloe stared at her for a moment, then scurried away, barely able to keep from laughing. Her disguise must be good indeed - even Nadja Chamack, reporter and interviewer of popular social figures, had failed to recognize a celebrity like her!

Having recovered her balance, Nadja turned back toward the bakery with a shake of her head. _Young people these days!_ she thought, scornfully. She often interviewed kids about that age for her job, and the vast majority of them were spoiled brats! Luckily, the girl who baby-sat her daughter was altogether more dependable - thanks to the excellent upbringing her own dear friend, Sabine, had given her! For a second, as the shop bell tinkled above her head, she let herself wonder what Manon would be like when she got to that age. She had the feeling that she could be a difficult teenager, when the time came - she was already a bit of a handful! Hopefully, she wouldn't turn out to be half as bad as the mayor's girl - she was an outright terror!

Meanwhile, Chloe's limousine was discreetly parked a block away. She reached it without incident and slid into the back seat, panting heavily. Safely back from her successful mission, the first thing she did was to tear the wig from her head - it was starting to itch her sensitive scalp.

As the limousine glided through the city streets, she peered down at her hard-won quarry. All the way home she gazed at it, keeping a tight grip on it, as if it might somehow try to escape through the car window. She knew just how valuable it was to her - and to their class president. Smiling viciously to herself, she chuckled with gleeful anticipation.

It was just a little pink book; but to her, it was so much more. It meant that her hated rival, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, was firmly enmeshed in her vengeful clutches.

* * *

 _Author's note: just a few more things to mention..._

 _The idea of after-school clubs is perhaps more of a Japanese thing than a French one. I have no idea if this is typical of France; if not, please assume it is a special program exclusive to the Francoise-Dupont College!_

 _Obviously this takes place post-Animan, so Alya and Nino are a couple. Does Nino know who Marinette likes? Despite Alya's pinky-promise to the contrary, based on what he says at the end of the episode, honestly... I think that he does! I reckon Alya honestly didn't tell him, and has made him promise to 'not know' about it; but he's certainly no idiot! He acknowledges that girls tend to fall all over Adrien, so if he's watched Marinette at all, it wouldn't take him very long to work it out. I like to think that he and Alya are secretly scheming ways to bring them together - Alya shouldn't have to do it on her own, and Nino could be a very useful ally!_

 _Probably my favourite episode of the whole first season is 'Kung Food'. For a start, I'm half-Chinese, so I can totally relate to Marinette - some of my conversations with family members on my dad's side have been very similar to hers with Uncle Cheng! What I liked best, though, was how much better Marinette's interactions with Adrien were; she was actually speaking intelligibly to him, and he was so nice to her, sticking up for her and openly opposing Chloe's xenophobic attitude. Even though Marinette still totally lost her cool around Adrien in later episodes, I like to think that this was a turning-point in their friendship, where she found out that he wasn't so scary to talk to - though she still has trouble managing it most of the time! I thought I'd like to portray her making a bit of progress at it._

 _Well, how's that for a start? I've already begun writing Chapter 2, but it's going to take a while longer to complete - so if you liked it so far, please stay tuned!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Ha-ha!" cried a shrill voice, filled with assurance. "You're about to face my strongest catt-ack yet! Prepare to be defeated, Antibug!"

"Antibug...?" Marinette repeated, glancing down at the little girl beside her. The bad pun had been very similar to the real Chat Noir - a bit _too_ similar! - but... "Manon, that's not Antibug, it's Ladybug!"

Manon had a doll in each hand. She held the Chat Noir puppet poised above her head, about to deliver a staff-blow to his opponent. The 'staff' in question was a drinking straw that Manon had picked up at a sidewalk cafe they had passed. Marinette could just imagine the doll's real-life double making some kind of 'final straw' joke, and cringed inwardly. Then she looked at the scowl Manon was now giving her, and cringed again. She had forgotten how much her baby-sitting charge hated being criticized - even over a simple game of 'Miraculous Heroes'.

"But it's Chat Noir," Manon insisted, sticking her lower lip out in a sulky pout. "He's a hero, and he needs someone to fight, and he can't fight Ladybug, so-"

 _...as if he's never done it before,_ Marinette thought wryly. _The number of times he's been controlled by akuma - he's lucky I know how to evade some of his best strikes!_

Aloud, she asked: "Does Chat Noir _always_ have to fight someone?"

Manon lowered both dolls, suddenly uncertain. She appeared to consider this, casting around for an answer. Finally, with an expression of faint bewilderment, she said: "He's a hero. It's what he does." She made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.

Marinette chuckled uneasily. Sometimes, what Manon said was a little too close to the truth; it was difficult to dismiss some of her more accurate comments as mere childish banter. Marinette often had the uncanny sensation that Manon knew more than she should - or was an incredibly lucky guess. "Well," she said, unable to fault the girl's reasoning, "if Chat Noir has to fight someone, it's better that he has Ladybug to help him - he's pretty hopeless without her!"

"Did she tell you that?"

Marinette frowned, puzzled by the question. "Who-?"

"Ladybug!" Manon shrieked back in reply, with childish excitement; it took all Marinette's time to keep a straight face, fighting the panicked notion that she had been recognized. "You're friends with her, aren't you?"

"Uh, er, um... sort of?" Marinette managed, her mind racing. Back when Climatika had attacked them, she had told Manon that, in order to keep her quiet; the girl had now taken the words as gospel. _Why do children have to be so insistent?_ she silently asked the universe at large, with an inward groan.

"How can she be 'sort of' your friend?" Manon wanted to know.

"She... well, she... um, I'd _like_ her to be a friend, I suppose, but I don't really know her that well..." _If you're going to lie, might as well make it a big one!_

"Kind of like how that boy in the posters is 'sort of' your boyfriend?" Manon thoughtfully suggested.

"Yes, like that!" Marinette seized on the idea; at least this explanation made sense to her small companion. Luckily, she had just come up with the perfect ploy to distract Manon before she could ask any more awkward questions. "Well, if your heroes need someone to do battle with, why don't you have them face this villain together?"She held out a hand, clutching the air as if there were another doll in her hand.

Manon stared at her empty fist, then looked sideways at her, confused. "Who... is that?" she finally asked after a long, doubtful pause.

"This villain is called the Vanisher," Marinette explained, brandishing the non-existent doll as if to show off her sewing handiwork. She rather reminded herself of the Mime. _Mr. Haprèle_ _would be proud of me!_ "She's a very good friend of Antibug's." It was almost true - _sorry, Sabrina!_ "She's a very sneaky villain, and very difficult to take on - because she has the power to turn invisible! Your two heroes can't see her, so they don't know which direction she's coming from!"

Manon gasped, enchanted by this new addition to her favourite game. "What will they do?" she asked, a little breathlessly. Her captivated face was adorable to watch.

Marinette smirked; the fact that she had taken down - as Ladybug - a villain that Manon considered to be difficult made her feel rather proud. "It's alright - luckily for the good guys, Chat Noir's super-sensitive cat senses have already detected her approach! Look out, here she comes!"

She play-acted tossing the 'doll' towards Manon; the girl gave a delighted squeal, holding up her puppets again.

"Look out, my lady!" she said, in her piping voice. "The enemy is on your left! Thanks, Chat Noir! You can't sneak up on me, Vanisher! Ha, I've lassoed her with my yoyo string!"

The little doll's 'yoyo' was a teabag Manon had found at the same cafe as Chat Noir's 'staff'; it had a red label that read 'Earl Grey' attached to its string. Marinette chuckled as she watched Manon twirl the 'yoyo' in the air. She was glad that her own weapon was quite a bit bigger - and a lot more durable - than this miniature version. Then again, after a long day of school, homework, helping her parents, and chasing akuma over rooftops, she could always use a good cup of tea - perhaps with a cookie or two, shared with her hard-working kwami!

Manon dashed ahead along the sidewalk, using the dolls to act out a spirited fight that wound its way over flowerbeds, around signposts, and through fence palings. Marinette followed behind, suggesting counter-attacks and calling out encouragement to Manon's 'heroes'. After a short stroll, the two arrived back at the bakery, where Ms. Chamack was already waiting, chatting to Sabine over the counter. Manon happily ran forward to kiss her mother. After a quick exchange of pleasantries and a word of thanks from Ms. Chamack, Manon returned the dolls to Marinette, hugged her goodbye, and went home.

"Oh, Marinette," Sabine said, turning to look at her daughter with a heavy tray of baguettes expertly braced against her arm, "a girl from school called in while you were out. Her name was Nicole, she said she was on the student council. I let her go upstairs and take a look at your list of club ideas. I hope that was alright, dear."

Marinette fought down a rising sense of alarm, which she concealed from her mother with an effort. "N-no, Maman, that's alright... but next time, could you maybe tell people to wait for me down here, instead of letting them go up?"

Sabine smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, darling. Your friend Alya is up and down those stairs so often, I sometimes forget that you don't like having other people up there. You let Mr. Haprèle go up to collect his hat, and that boy from school-"

"Oh, uh, yes, but-" The mention of Adrien had Marinette momentarily flustered; he was so far removed from the problem at hand, and brought up so unexpectedly, that she faltered. _She hadn't wanted him up there - at first, anyway - for a whole other reason!_ "I know, Maman. It's just... I like my privacy, is all."

Sabine smiled indulgently. _Teenagers, really!_ she thought, as she filled the bakery shelves with fresh loaves. It was silly, but she accepted that Marinette was protective of her private space. She had been rather bashful about those handsome posters on her wall for some time now! "I understand, honey. I'll make them wait down here in future."

"Thanks, Maman. What did you say the girl's name was?"

"Nicole. She had long, brown hair."

Marinette frowned, wracking her brain wildly. She couldn't think of anyone on the student council named Nicole; and the only girl she could think of with long, brown hair was-

She gasped, very nearly dropping her dolls. Realizing her mother was watching her curiously, she hastily recovered her composure. There was no point upsetting her mother over something already done - especially when she couldn't begin to explain why it worried her so much! "Oh. Right. Well, er, I'd better put these things away and get on with my homework-"

Once she was through the shop door, Marinette sprinted up the stairs and burst up through the trapdoor into her room. A red blur darted out of her purse. Tikki, free to come out of hiding, hovered a bit above her head.

"What's wrong, Marinette?" she asked. Her large black eyes were scouting about the room, just as her Miraculous-holder's blue ones were currently doing.

"I'm not sure," Marinette replied, using the kind of no-nonsense tone she normally saved for Ladybug. "Something doesn't seem right about what Maman said, Tikki. I don't know anyone on the student council named Nicole, and the only person I can think of with long brown hair is..."

"...Lila?" Tikki supplied, in an anxious quaver.

"Yeah." Marinette didn't exactly get along with Lila; or, to be more accurate, her interactions with her as Ladybug had been far from friendly. But why would Lila sneak into her room? She hated _Ladybug_ , not _Marinette_ ; and she had no way of knowing that they were the same person... _did she_?

She frowned worriedly to herself, sweeping a glance systematically over her possessions as she puzzled to make sense of it. She knew she was probably over-reacting, but she had become nervous about letting people into the room ever since she had been elected class president, when Chloe and Sabrina had tried to-

"Oh!" she exclaimed, wheeling around; her gaze shot to the pink polka-dot box on her desk. She heaved a sigh of relief, her hand over her rapidly-thumping heart. It was still there, and safely locked. She picked it up and shook it, just to make sure; something rattled reassuringly inside. "I was really scared for a moment," she moaned, collapsing into her desk chair. "I thought maybe Chloe tried to steal it again! But she doesn't have long brown hair... unless she dyed it, or wore a wig..."

She shared a sceptical glance with Tikki. They both chuckled at the thought. Chloe Bourgeoise, whose chief concern, even in the middle of an akuma attack, was the preservation of her hairdo? Not likely! Momentarily reassured, she returned to her first suspicion. "Could it have been Lila?" she murmured thoughtfully, leaning her elbows on the desk.

"I don't see how it could be," Tikki said, fluttering over to sit atop the diary box. "Didn't she leave a few days ago?"

"Yeah, but..."

Marinette didn't really blame Lila for leaving. In fact, she felt a bit guilty about it; but she was actually rather glad that she was gone. She had been humiliated by Ladybug twice - despite Marinette's best efforts to make up afterwards - so it was little wonder she hadn't wanted to stay in Paris, where posters of the polka-dot heroine were on every second street-corner, her masked face appearing on the news every couple of nights. After Volpina's first and only appearance, Lila had immediately dropped out of the student exchange program, returning to Italy as soon as she could.

At least, that was what Marinette had _heard_. Rose, who was too nice by far, had tried to get in touch with Lila - even if it was only for one day, she _had_ been their classmate - but no one knew her phone number, and she hadn't left a forwarding address. It seemed as if she really was gone. But then, if Marinette knew anything about Lila, it was that she was a compulsive liar. Perhaps she had told everyone she was leaving and then secretly stuck around, plotting her revenge? But even then, why would she target Marinette? _Unless..._

Marinette didn't want to contemplate what Lila might do if she found out _she_ was Ladybug.

"I might be seeing too much into this, but it could be serious," Marinette told Tikki; the little kwami gave a grave nod. "Maybe I should write this down, just in case it turns into something important - Master Fu said I should keep my thoughts ordered, and jotting things in my diary seems to help." She picked up the diary box; Tikki obligingly lifted off it, drifting over to float just above her computer monitor.

As she fumbled in her bag for the key, her phone vibrated against the back of her hand, startling her. She unlocked the screen to find a message from Alya:

 _What do u reckon, class pres? will members of ladybug club like their uniform? ;)_

Attached to it was a selfie of Alya and Nino. She had a red and black-spotted scarf around her neck, pretending to plant a kiss on her boyfriend's cheek; he sported a pair of black cat-ears on a headband, giving the camera a jaunty salute. Behind them, Marinette could see a sign that said _'Miracu-less Discounts!_ ' Beneath it were racks of similar accessories - hair bands, wallets, phone charms, key rings - some of them spotted black-and-red, others embellished with little gold bells. Marinette laughed and showed Tikki; they both giggled, though Marinette couldn't help feeling a little exasperated. _Trust Alya to get carried away with her favourite obsession... and trust Nino to egg her on..._

"Do you think your class will choose to have a Ladybug club?" Tikki asked. "It would be quite an honour!"

She sounded innocent, but she looked faintly gratified. _Can't blame her for being flattered,_ Marinette thought to herself, with a swell of pride for her tiny guardian. _She's the one that makes Ladybug who she is!_

"I'm sure it would be, but..." Marinette uncertainly glanced aside at the floor rug, which was wrinkled; Manon must have messed it up while playing. "If they do, it will only make things harder for me, won't it? I already hate lying to Alya so much. If everyone forms a Ladybug club, I'll have to start lying to the _rest_ of my friends as well!"

"How so?" Tikki asked, kindly concern on her little face.

"Well, they'll be talking about Ladybug constantly in the club - even more than they already do. I'll have to act like they aren't really talking about me and pretend I know nothing, right?" Marinette gazed worriedly up at her kwami. "Isn't that a form of lying?"

Tikki considered for a moment. "Mm. Sort of."

Marinette couldn't suppress a grin; those were the exact same words she had used on Manon. Considering how much older Tikki was than her, the comparison was perhaps an appropriate one. "What do you mean, 'sort of'?" she asked, in a teasing tone; she reached up to gently tickle Tikki's side. The kwami clung to her fingertip in an effort to stop her, giggling sheepishly. This was what Marinette liked best about being Tikki's Miraculous-holder: she might be a five-thousand-year-old guardian spirit with the power to vanquish evil, but she was still so sweet and approachable!

"I know you hate feeling like you're being dishonest, Marinette," the kwami said, reverting to a more serious tone. Marinette nodded in agreement. "Don't feel so bad about it," Tikki went on, consolingly. "Pretty much all Ladybugs have felt bad about having to keep secrets from the people closest to them - and most Chat Noir's too, I'm pretty sure. But you're not hiding things to be selfish or underhanded. You're only doing it to keep people safe. If civilians knew who you are under the mask, it would put you - and them - at greater risk from Papillion."

"I know," Marinette said, with a sigh. She had told herself this countless times since she had become Ladybug - since she had started cutting class, stealing from her classmates, making excuses for her sudden disappearances. She could not think of a single person she knew whom she hadn't lied to at least once - she'd even lied to Master Fu, and she'd only just recently met him properly! "It's just... I hate liars, and being one myself makes me feel like such a hypocrite!"

Tikki sighed, swooping down to pat her companion's cheek. Marinette was so nice - it was what made her such a great heroine, but also made being Ladybug really hard for her sometimes! "The duties that go with being Ladybug aren't often easy, Marinette, but you've handled it really well so far. I know Master Fu is very pleased with your progress. Having to deceive your friends is the price you have to pay for preserving the safety of Paris. You're protecting the people that you're lying to, so it's more like a necessary trade, isn't it?"

Marinette managed a smile. When it was put like that, it didn't seem so bad - even if the prickly feeling of guilt still remained. "Right," she agreed.

"And don't worry about whether there will be a Ladybug club or not," Tikki continued, drawing back to look her earnestly in the face. "It's not a sure thing yet; and if it _does_ happen, I'm sure you'll manage. It's nice of them to show an appreciation for what you do - even if it's hard sometimes, it will remind you of what you're striving for."

"You're right." Marinette's smile was genuine this time. As usual, she felt a lot better after talking to her wise little kwami. The thought of there being a Ladybug club still freaked her out, but... the idea wasn't quite as daunting as it had seemed before.

"Well," she said, with the briskness that a bout of creativity usually brought on, "there won't be _any_ kind of club until the votes have been cast tomorrow. I'd better finish making that ballot box." It already stood in the corner of her room: one of the large cardboard cartons that her parents used when they did catering for big events. It was ideal for her purpose: it had the bakery logo (which she herself had designed) stamped all over it, so if anyone - namely, Chloe - tried to switch or tamper with it, there was no way she wouldn't know. It didn't need much done to it to finish it off: all she had to do was cut a slot in the lid for the votes to go through. She rummaged in her drawer for a craft knife, and...

"Hey, Tikki, have you seen my ruler anywhere?" She glanced at her desk; she couldn't see the familiar strip of purple plastic anywhere. Tikki looked as well, rising in the air to get a better vantage point.

"There it is!" she squeaked after a moment, pointing to the floor at the foot of the dress-making dummy.

Marinette went over and picked it up, puzzled. She usually made a point of keeping her artistic tools neat and tidy. "Did you move it here, Tikki?"

"No, of course not."

"Must've been Manon," she decided out loud. She smiled, remembering the girl's enthusiastic game of 'Miraculous Heroes'. That child had a creative streak of her own when it came to coming up with play scenarios!

Thinking of Manon made her look at her collection of dolls. She had considered putting them away safely after her encounter with the Puppeteer - that little girl was trouble in _so_ many ways! - but couldn't quite bring herself to. Most of these figurines were her friends in real life, when they weren't akuma-tized; and it was nice to be able to have something from her _other_ life so openly on display in her room. She had dumped the two 'hero' puppets down hastily when she came in, and they had both fallen over to one side. She went over to tidy them, pausing with Chat Noir in her hand. An idea suddenly struck; she placed the purple ruler across the doll's shoulders, like the wings of a glider.

"Look out villains, I am Cat-Wing, menace of the skies!" She gave a fair impression of him; she had heard his particular brand of bravado often enough to imitate it well. She made her answering Ladybug voice slightly higher than her normal pitch, to suit the size of the doll: "What are you doing up there, Chat Noir? Ladybugs are the ones that are supposed to fly, not cats! Au contraire, my lady; my admiration for you has given me wings! What's this, a lucky bug-creature?"

The doll swivelled in the air to face Tikki, who looked on in amusement; she squeaked involuntarily when the puppet turned towards her. "Ah-ha, just watch! I shall capture it for you as a token of my affection, Princess! Halt, fair beastie! Please allow yourself to become my Lady's companion - a love-bug for my love-bug!" She whisked the doll through the air, swooping towards Tikki on its 'wings'. Tikki squealed again and zoomed across the room; Marinette chased after her, keeping up a running commentary of Chat Noir's thwarted attempts to catch the 'love-bug'.

At last, winded from her laughter as much as all the running around, she collapsed on her chaise lounge, gasping for breath. Tikki, finding it was safe to come close again, landed on top of her, giggling into her t-shirt.

"It seems like the kind of thing he'd do, doesn't it?" Marinette asked, when she could speak again. If her parents had heard the commotion downstairs, she'd tell them that she had been watching a funny Youtube video - much as she hated lying, she was becoming quite adept at it!

"Probably," Tikki agreed, with one last chuckle. She flitted into the air as Marinette got up, replaced the doll, and took the ruler over to her ballot box, finishing it off. The kwami watched her thoughtfully as she worked.

"It was a nice, what you said about him today," she said, as Marinette smiled with satisfaction and stood, surveying the neat slit she had made in the lid of the box.

"What was?" she asked distractedly, crossing back over to her desk.

"How you said it should be a Ladybug-and-Chat-Noir club, not just a Ladybug club. I'm sure he would have been happy to hear you say that."

This time, Marinette properly took in what she was saying. "Of course he would," she answered gruffly, "and it's just as well he didn't - that guy is arrogant enough as it is!" She sat down at her desk, trying to quash another persistent stab of guilt. "Actually, I only said that because Alya wanted an answer... and to deflect attention away from Ladybug..."

That was what she told herself, as well as Tikki, but... she really _had_ meant it when she had said it. It sometimes seemed as if people gave her more credit than her partner, just because she was the one who always purified the akuma; she knew that this was entirely unfair.

If she hadn't had Chat Noir's support from the start, she never would have made it this far. She writhed uncomfortably when she thought of how tentative she had been, back at the start. She hadn't wanted anything to do with saving Paris; whereas he had leapt straight into fighting monsters and saving people before she had got the hang of it, even though they had got their powers at the same time. In some respects, he had shown her how to do it. If he hadn't gone ahead and narrowly saved Alya from getting hit by those soccer posts, Ladybug (as she would shortly name herself) might have remained frozen atop the stadium roof, too scared to move, until it was too late. And after that, when she had failed to purify the akuma and been ready to give up, he had encouraged to keep going.

She honestly didn't know what she would have done if he hadn't been there for her on those occasions, and so many others. He _did_ have moments of seriousness when it was really needed, advising and supporting her, calling her out when she made mistakes (rare enough though that was). She even - dare she admit it - _liked_ his goofiness sometimes; given how dangerous their missions were, she would probably crumple under the pressure if she didn't have his constant stream of quips and terrible puns to lighten the mood. She honestly couldn't imagine diving into battle without knowing he would turn up, sooner or later, to watch her back. She still shuddered when she thought of that close call with Chronogirl, when he had taken that hit meant for her and started disappearing before her eyes... how stern his face had looked, as he slowly faded out... _to think she had really almost lost him..._

She came out of her reverie with a start, to find that Tikki was watching her with a knowing smile.

"...and he really does deserve some recognition as much as I do," she admitted, a little reluctantly.

"Uh-huh. When are you going to talk to him?"

Marinette froze in the common immobile-with-fear pose that Tikki had become accustomed to. It would be kind of adorable... if it didn't happen so frequently. And if wasn't so stressful for the girl who held it. "I don't know," she muttered, reanimating again only to slump in her seat.

She knew she shouldn't be so reluctant. Master Fu's words were still uncomfortably clear in her memory:

 _"Ladybug, you have been given the grave duty of protecting your city from the threat of Papillion. As much as I am overjoyed to have found such a capable young lady to take charge of the Ladybug Miraculous, it saddens me to have so grievously complicated things for you, by giving you such a daunting task, at such a young age. However much your masked self has to bear, the burden that Marinette carries is heavier still. There is only one other who knows what it is like to carry such a weight: your partner on your quest, the Miraculous-holder known as Chat Noir. Yet this comrade only aids you in battle, when the extent of your trials certainly doesn't end when you doff your armour. Chat Noir could be a very useful ally to Marinette as well as to Ladybug, along with - well, with the young man behind the mask, to whom you have not yet been properly introduced. It is high time for you to change that. You should greet him as yourself, take him into your confidence; and let him take you into his. Both of you have many obstacles ahead that you must overcome, you would do well to face them together, both with and without your masks."_

That was what the Sifu had told her, at their very first proper meeting. Much as she respected Master Fu's knowledge and wisdom, she couldn't help begrudging him for setting her something she really didn't want to do.

"You should do it next time you get the chance," Tikki said, as if she sensed her companion's reluctance. She used the persistent, prodding tone that sometimes made Marinette feel like she had a second little mother, or a bossy older sister. She really couldn't argue back; Tikki was only reiterating what the Sifu had said.

She glanced guiltily at her kwami. "I know I should... but..." How could she explain the doubts she had, when she didn't fully understand them herself? Master Fu's words had instantly sent her into a blind panic, because...

"You know, Tikki," she began, trying to honestly say what she felt; she knew the little kwami wouldn't judge her. "When I started at this, I really didn't want to do it, but I did it because I had to. Because there were people I wanted to save." She paused, remembering the look on Alya's face as she lay pinned behind a car, calling for help; the memory still made her blood run cold. "N-not that I mind it now!" she hurriedly added, since Tikki was looking at her with a slightly glum expression. The last thing she wanted was to seem ungrateful, or to insult her closest companion; she had come close enough to doing that when she had tried to refuse her Miraculous back then! "I've gotten used to it, I guess... I, um, even kind of _enjoy_ it sometimes... but, it's all just been happening so fast, and I've been going along with it as best I can. All this time, though, I've been trying to keep it as far from the rest of my life as possible. I really still want to keep out of it as much as I can. I mean, you've told me things about being Ladybug, and Master Fu has already taught me so much, but... I almost don't want to get too involved, in case... it seems like it could..."

Tikki nestled into her shoulder, nuzzling against her for comfort. "You're worried it will interfere with your normal life?"

"Yeah. I mean, it does that enough already, but... at least I have something to come back to when I'm not in the mask. If I didn't even have that any more, I- "

"You want to keep some distance between who you are as Marinette and what you do as Ladybug," Tikki supplied for her, understanding in her eyes.

Marinette nodded, relieved that her kwami got what she was trying to say. "It's just, what I do as Ladybug is so unreal sometimes... I mean, that giant robot we were able to use was pretty cool, but it was like something straight out of a game. And those weird weapons the Pigeon Man made out of birds were downright _bizarre_! And Jagged Stone's pet crocodile was pretty out-there, but then it turned into an actual _dragon_! And then there was who zookeeper who turned himself into a _dinosaur_! I mean, that's just..." She trailed off. Tikki was nodding sympathetically.

"I've had a pretty crazy life," the tiny creature admitted.

Marinette gulped. She'd been through less than a year of these shenanigans, but to have had more than _five thousand years of this?!_ She didn't know how Tikki stood it. But then, Manon's words came back to her: _That's what heroes do._ Maybe this was just a regular day in the life for a kwami - but still, it must take some getting used to, even now!

"I can believe it," she said, with an uneasy chuckle. " _My_ life has been pretty crazy lately. I mean, Ladybug's has been. Chat Noir's too, I guess; he's part of all the craziness. Sometimes, I think he enjoys it too much. More than I do, that's for sure. But Marinette's life, as far as anyone else knows, is perfectly _normal_. Well, as normal as life _can_ be with the threat of akuma attacks every day. So when all these strange things happen to Ladybug... I can almost fool myself into thinking they happen to someone else. But if I start to let _Ladybug's_ life, including Chat Noir, get into _Marinette's_ life, things would be a lot less normal..."

Tikki heaved a tiny sigh. She knew exactly why Marinette had these sorts of fears; and for the most part, they were more than a little justified. She sometimes worried a lot about her Miraculous-holder. She had felt protective of Marinette from the start, when the terrified girl had thrown things at her and trapped her in a glass - which, given the circumstances, was an understandable reaction. She often regretted the impact that being Ladybug had on Marinette's life. Not that she thought Master Fu had made the wrong choice - no matter what difficulties the heroine faced, she always rose to the challenge brilliantly. The problem was that Ladybug's confidence tended to come off with the mask. Marinette just couldn't seem to realize how brilliant she was as _herself_.

Tikki watched as her companion fiddled with the ruler on the desk in front of her; the purple plastic had a faint crack in it. As much as Marinette hated lying, they both knew that she wasn't speaking the whole truth. _She's worried that Chat Noir won't like Marinette as much as Ladybug,_ Tikki thought to herself. Then, after a pause, she added: _And she knows that Chat Noir has a crush on Ladybug. She doesn't want to let him get close to Marinette, in case she disappoints him and hurts his feelings._

She rubbed the black spot on her brow in consternation. Marinette was just so nice, which was why she perfect as Ladybug - but also made it far more difficult at times!

She drifted up to rest against the girl's cheek. "Don't doubt what Master Fu said, Marinette. He wouldn't have told you to do this if he wasn't absolutely sure that it is the right course of action to take. Remember, he chose both you and Chat Noir for good reasons. You are an incredible Ladybug, with or without the mask - so I bet Chat Noir is the same! You'll probably get along really well, once you get to know him better."

Marinette raised a sceptical eyebrow. Yes, Chat Noir was a truly great hero, but... what could he possibly be like as a _person_? He was so happy-go-lucky all the time, it was hard to imagine him as a regular student like herself, with the same pressures of life and school and secret identities as she had - most of the time, he behaved more like a pre-schooler! She tried to imagine him going to the same college as her, attending the same classes. She bet he would be the class clown, sitting up the back and constantly being disruptive; he would call out lame jokes that exasperated the teacher and made everyone else groan as much as they laughed.

She smiled at the thought despite herself. Maybe having someone like that around might be fun. Tikki could see that her words had had the right effect; she brightened visibly, causing Marinette to feel a stab of guilt again.

"Okay," she said, as she opened the drawer and put her cutting tools away again. "I'll try to talk to him next time I see him. But I usually only meet him when we're about to fight an akuma, so we might not have the chance... Master Fu didn't say that it had to be done urgently..."

Tikki inwardly threw up her tiny arms in exasperation; she knew Marinette was only putting off something she would eventually have to do. Still, at least she'd managed to extract a promise to do it. Sooner or later.

As she finished putting her things away, Marinette glanced in the desk drawer. Beside the compartments filled with drawing and dress-making tools, there was just enough room for a few small books. The topmost one caught her eye; a thin, dog-eared volume, full of basic phrases written in pin-yin Mandarin. She had spied it as she passed a second-hand book store and bought it, on the off-chance she might have to speak to her uncle in Chinese again; the experience had made her realize how much she didn't know about her mother's native language. She was _so_ glad she'd bought it now, as she would probably need it...

"Hey, Tikki..." Faint spots of colour had come into Marinette's cheeks, which could only mean she was thinking of one thing - or rather, one _person_. "Do you think Adrien meant it when he said he would give me Chinese lessons?"

Tikki beamed encouragingly at her. If Alya was proud of the progress Marinette had made, her kwami was doubly so. _Ah, to be young again,_ the kwami thought, a little wistfully. Being around such a youthful companion sometimes made her feel several millennia younger! Like most girls her age, Marinette was preoccupied with matters of the heart - and with a gallant suitor like Adrien Agreste, she could hardly blame her!

"I'm sure he meant it!" she declared, nodding vigorously for Marinette's benefit. "He wouldn't have offered if he wasn't willing to spend more time with you - he must really want to get to know you better!"

Marinette flushed and hugged herself with happiness. It was true - why else would he offer! She had admired Adrien from afar for some time now; lately, it felt as if that distance was starting to close, slowly but perceptibly. To her own astonishment, she no longer devolved into a gibbering mess every time he approached.

Was it because she had encountered him several times as Ladybug? Perhaps not; Marinette did not share the same self-assurance that Ladybug had in spades, so it likely made no difference. No, it was Marinette who had made progress all on her own. The more she managed to speak to Adrien, with some sort of eloquence, without pitching forward on her face every time, the more at ease she gradually began to feel around him. As they had spent more time together - training for the gaming tournament, chaperoning Uncle Cheng, chatting between lessons - they had finally started to click.

She smiled ecstatically at the stack of textbooks on the desk opposite her, thoughts a rose-tinged tangle of possibilities. She actually dared to be optimistic about her chances. She had at first found it hard to believe that the Valentine's Day poem Adrien had written in class was about _her_ , like Tikki had insisted it was. But now, if he was actually suggesting that they spend time together outside school, without any kind of prompting from Alya or anyone else... maybe he really _did_ feel the same way about her, and was just too shy to confess - in which case, she was more than willing to give him every opportunity!

This meant she had not one, but _two_ special missions - introducing herself to Chat Noir, and getting to know Adrien better!

 _I wonder what they would think of each other?_ she wondered, idly toying with a stray biro as she day-dreamed. It was hard to tell. She had encountered her crush a few times as Ladybug, but she didn't remember ever seeing Chat Noir in the same room as him - which was maybe just as well! Perhaps they wouldn't really get along; after all, they weren't very much alike! Chat Noir would probably try to impress the famous model, showing off his muscles and cracking bad puns. And Adrien, who always had such lovely manners, would pretend to be impressed, laughing politely at even the worst jokes - he was nice like that!

Chuckling at the thought of such an encounter, Marinette closed the drawer and reluctantly reached for her school books. But it was hard to focus on her homework, when she had some much better lessons to look forward to - and an adorable teacher to go with them!

* * *

 _Author's note: geez, I didn't mean to let this chapter run so long! It took a fair amount of time to lay out the groundwork for the story, summarizing where things stand at the end of the tv series, preparing for things that will happen later on. Some bits weren't strictly necessary, like the scene with Manon (though I_ did _need a reason for Marinette to be away from her room) and the bit with the Chat Noir puppet (which I just couldn't resist including); otherwise I couldn't cut out anything much to make it shorter._

 _I'm_ so _done with Lila. Sorry, but it's not purely done because I don't like the character; I just don't have a place for her in this story, so I wrote her out. I'm not sure why she was at Francoise-Dupont College in the first place, or how she would be able to leave, so I made her an exchange student. I figured she probably comes from a fairly privileged background in order to support her constant lies, so if she complained enough, I'm sure she'd be allowed home. Sorry to disappoint any die-hard Lila fans!_

 _I'll try not to make the next chapter so long, or to draw out the suspense much more than I already have. The pace of up-dates in this fandom seems pretty fast, but I just can't keep up that kind of pace; I'm too meticulous about my writing, and I can't have my fics threaten to take over my life any more than they already do! I've started writing the next chapter, and I also have a fair chunk of draft done for chapters way ahead, so please try to be patient - I'll write in the gaps as quickly as I can, promise! ~ W.J._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Those kids in your class are clueless! You know what you should've told them, right?"

"Hmm?" Adrien murmured distractedly, looking up from his work.

Plagg was reclining an inch above the sofa, a cube of gouda clutched in one black paw. "They should start a cheese-appreciation club!" he declared, beaming all over his whiskered face. "Just think of all the fun activities you could do: cheese-tastings, visiting different delis, trying out some cheese, touring a cheese factory, meeting up to eat cheese..." He sighed wistfully.

Adrien listened with a bemused look on his photogenic face. He couldn't help but admire Plagg's enthusiasm - when it came to his favourite obsession, he was even more single-minded than Alya! "And where do you suppose all that cheese will come from?" he asked, giving his kwami the kind of teasing grin the camera loved. "Student clubs don't get much funding, you know - not enough to buy expensive cheese. I'd have to take your private stash in to share with everyone!"

Plagg gave a distressed flip in mid-air and regarded him fearfully, clinging to his lump of gouda. "Well... maybe it's best kept as a private hobby," he decided, tossing the cheese into his mouth for safe-keeping.

Adrien grimaced as he watched crumbs scatter from his paws. Plagg was the reason why he never sat on that couch anymore: it absolutely _reeked_ of cheese. He didn't want to know what the cleaner made of it when she came to tidy his room. _Probably that I have body-odour problems_ , he thought morosely to himself. The fact that such a thing was considered a normal teenage-boy affliction didn't make him feel any better about it. Besides the complete injustice of it, he had a certain reputation to uphold - after all, he was the literal face of 'Gabriel eau de parfum'.

He turned back to what he had been writing, hunching over the page in concentration. Plagg, appetite momentarily sated and bitten by curiosity, drifted close enough to peer over his shoulder. "I thought you already did your Chinese homework for this week. Or do you think you'll do a better job of writing love letters in a language other than French?"

Adrien thrust down his pen and turned on Plagg in a huff. Both his finely-contoured cheekbones were tinged faintly red - and not just with annoyance. "That's not what I'm doing! I'm writing this for Marinette, if you must know."

He had promised her some lessons, and he intended to keep his word. His own spare time was sparse; since he didn't know if she would also be busy helping at her family's bakery, he was preparing to teach her while he had a slot in the coming weekend that he could dedicate to her, if she was free. Most of his Intermediate Mandarin textbooks would be far too advanced for her just yet, so he was copying out some simple beginner's phrases in pinyin - she would need to learn them phonetically, before she was ready to read Chinese characters.

"Huh, defensive," Plagg drawled, folding his paws in a nonplussed manner. "Switched who you're pining for already, have you? I thought you might be tough enough - or pathetic enough - to stick with Ladybug, though I do have to admit, Marinette is an easier-"

"It's not like that!" Adrien all but hissed at him, glowering furiously up at his kwami. "I just offered to help her, as a friend-"

"Oh, as a friend!" Plagg repeated in a mocking tone, as if this explained everything. "So you don't count Ladybug as a friend?"

"Of course I do!" Adrien returned, with an exasperated splutter. He considered himself an agreeable person, but sometimes Plagg required more patience than even _he_ possessed. "She's probably my _best_ friend - besides Nino. She's my partner. _Crime-fighting_ partner," he hastily clarified. If his Lady heard him describe her as any other kind of 'partner', she'd probably set him straight with a firm bop on the nose!

"Ladybug is your friend, and Marinette is your friend," Plagg summarized. Adrien was about to thank him for stating the obvious, when the kwami added: "So why can't you talk to Ladybug like you do with Marinette?"

"What do you mean? I talk to Ladybug all the t-"

"Let me rephrase that: why can't you _confess_ to her?" Plagg drifted lazily overhead, turning on his back to regard Adrien upside-down with vibrant green eyes. "Your attempt on Valentine's Day was a fiasco, and you've had plenty of opportunity since then. Why not just get it over with?"

Adrien gazed unseeingly at the paper in front of him. Plagg had basically accused him of cowardice, and he couldn't really disagree with him; he _felt_ like a coward. "I-I've been waiting for her to bring it up first. If she sent me that card on Valentine's Day, I thought she might-"

"-leave you hanging til Christmas?" Plagg finished for him. "Kid, you embarrass me sometimes - I thought you were a better Chat Noir than that! Why not take the initiative? It's not hard; just talk to her, like you would to this Marinette."

Plagg made it sound wonderfully uncomplicated; for all that he'd spent centuries with various Miraculous-holders, he didn't have a very good grasp of human matters. Adrien leaned his elbows on the desk, giving his reflection in the computer monitor an unbecoming scowl. "It's not that simple."

"Sure it is." Plagg lounged on air, paws behind his head. "Ladybug is a girl. You talk to girls every day."

Adrien wrinkled his nose. "You don't mean Nathalie, do you?"

"Of course not!" the kwami instantly retorted. Adrien bit back a smile. Plagg had overheard Nathalie's disgusted reaction after she stumbled across a pile of empty cheese-wrappers he'd been keeping in the hall cabinet; he'd been nursing a grudge ever since. "And I don't mean your teacher, either. Girls your age, in your class. You talk to them all the time without any trouble. Half of them probably fancy you."

Adrien shuddered. He knew for a fact that _Chloe_ fancied him - she wasn't exactly subtle about it, and every display of affection filled him with dread! He wasn't sure where Plagg was going with this. "You think I should ditch Ladybug for one of my classmates?"

"If it comes to it." Seeing Adrien frown and open his mouth to protest, he hastily went on: "I'm telling you that you should be decisive. Just ask Ladybug out already - if she accepts, you'll be over the moon. If she rejects you, at least you'll know where you stand, and you can ask out someone else. You're going so slow, tormenting yourself over nothing - it's painful to watch!" he wailed, clutching his own pointed in ears in anguish.

Adrien regarded his kwami with a raised eyebrow. _Was Plagg... concerned about him?_ His attitude made him sound more frustrated than anxious; but then, it was unlike Plagg to let on that he cared. _He's trying to help - in his own way,_ Adrien realized, letting his annoyance ebb away, replaced with something that came close to grudging gratitude. He supposed some of the previous Chat Noir's must have had love troubles - he wondered if any of them had pursued their Ladybug? - so Plagg was probably fed up with watching history repeat itself. The idea that his predecessors might have been even unluckier in love than he was made him feel slightly better.

"But I can't just come out and abruptly tell her my feelings," Adrien argued, despite the actual common-sense he could see in Plagg's suggestion. "It would risk our akuma-fighting relationship. If things got awkward between us and we couldn't do our jobs properly-"

"You're under-estimating yourselves, kid," Plagg retorted. "Do you think Ladybug would give up saving people over a bit of awkwardness? Did she stop protecting that prissy girl, even though she obviously can't stand her?"

A grin tugged at Adrien's lips. No, Ladybug had come back to save Chloe Bourgeoise - even though it was plain to everyone (except Chloe!) that the heroine less-than-liked her.

"You're only putting it off cos you're a scaredy-cat," Plagg went on, purring smugly over his own pun; Adrien chuckled and rolled his eyes, not really minding the jibe. "You're both made of sterner stuff than that, kid! She may wear that cutesy mask, but she's an ordinary girl underneath it! Just talk to her like you would one of those girls in your class. If you can talk to them-"

"I told you, it's not that simple!" Adrien objected again, throwing up his hands - he was starting to feel like they were going round in circles!

"Why not?" Plagg demanded, with an impatient scoff; the feeling was apparently mutual. "Girls are girls! You can talk to Marinette in _Chinese_ , yet you can't even -"

"Next you'll say 'cheese is cheese'!" Adrien retorted, making the kwami's eyes widen in outrage at the notion. "Different girls mean different things to me, Plagg. Look at how flustered Nino got over Marinette when he had a crush on her." Plagg _did_ remember; he chuckled maliciously at the memory. Adrien allowed himself a fond smile at Nino's expense. His poor friend had been reduced to a stuttering mess by his infatuation - and Nathanael hadn't fared much better! Actually, now that he thought about it, Marinette was pretty popular with boys; it didn't surprise him, given her sweet temperament. Well, _mostly_ sweet.

"Besides, Marinette isn't the best example," he pointed out. "Remember what happened when we first met her?" Whenever he started to worry that Marinette was so tentative and timid she might get walked all over by unscrupulous bullies (like Chloe), Adrien just remembered how ruthlessly she had chewed him out - pun unintended! - during the 'gum incident'.

Admittedly, it had been Chloe's fault (as most things were), but he couldn't really blame Marinette for jumping to conclusions like she had. Though he certainly hadn't liked being on the receiving end of her fury, he couldn't help but be impressed by how well she could handle herself - and handle Chloe, which was the greater wonder! Since then, he'd amassed even more proof of how formidable she was beneath the meek exterior. Putting up with Chloe certainly was a feat in itself; but Marinette had also attempted to reason with the Puppeteer, evaded Chronogirl's time-stealing powers, managed to disarm the Evilstrator, and avoided becoming the Gamer's next level-up . All without having to wear a costume, too - he sincerely doubted he could've managed any of that without the help of his Miraculous!

It made him glad that Marinette had never been akumatized. Compared to all those super-villains, he had been attacked more savagely by his mild-mannered classmate than any of them - and he had been trying to _help_ her!

He winced as he relived their first encounter. It had been a first in many ways: his first day of school, and the first serious disagreement he'd had in a long while. Not having gotten into many altercations like that before, he hadn't dealt with it very well. He sometimes wondered if he might have handled it better if he'd been going to school for longer; perhaps he would have been more prepared, taken it all in-stride better. Then again, judging by how often his classmates turned on each other and got turned into akuma, maybe it was just the sort of thing that everybody struggled with!

Then there were people like Chloe, who didn't even _try_.

 _He_ tried - had always tried, not just since Papillion had appeared. He knew all about the spoiled-supermodel cliché, had heard horror-stories from countless assistants and stylists who, finding that he was different, had casually confided in him. He often went out of his way to contradict the monstrous image of the privileged preppie golden-boy, knowing full-well that it was usually what people expected him to be. Nino's initial reaction to him was a perfect example of just what he always tried his best to avoid - which was why the whole 'gum incident' had pained him all the more. He'd been so looking forward to his first day of school, only to have it unravel on him all too quickly - and that was before a boy in his class had turned into an akuma!

He'd made a concerted effort to fix things - both with the akuma, and his new classmates. Making friends with Nino had been his first triumph; and he'd sought Marinette out after school, solely for the sake of explaining to her what had _really_ happened. He'd gone some way towards making amends by offering her his umbrella - as if he would watch her walk off into the rain under any circumstances, with his own personal chauffeur parked just a few feet away! At the time, he'd thought it made a good impression. At least hadn't scowled or pretended not to see him. She had even deigned to briefly touch his hand as she took the umbrella from him.

Still, it hadn't gone quite as smoothly as he had hoped. Things were far better between them now, but all this time later, they were still a bit... off. Every time he saw her npw, though he was always on his nicest behaviour, she didn't seem to know how to take him: she stuttered, lost her balance, tripped over her own feet, barely looked him in the eye. He was pretty sure she didn't _hate_ him anymore... but he wasn't really sure if she _liked_ him, either. For all he counted her as a friend, it wasn't exactly an ideal friendship.

For a while, he'd thought that it was his supposed 'celebrity' that put her off. But then, she regularly baby-sat for Ms. Chamack the newsreader; had chatted comfortably to tv host Alec Cataldi on the set of her uncle's cooking challenge; and assumedly had no trouble talking to Jagged Stone when she designed his album cover for him. Heck, she had even talked to _his father_ at the derby hat contest - admittedly, not in person - without getting tongue-tied! And the cat certainly didn't have her tongue, either; she had happily gushed at Chat Noir when he had escorted her on her date with the Evilstrator.

Nope, only Adrien was unfortunate enough to send her into a linguistic lock-down. It puzzled him no end.

The only explanation he had was that she still felt bad about how they had started out. After all, she had taken an instantaneous dislike to him; and, much as he was loath to admit it, he still had an ongoing (increasingly grudging) association with Chloe, who was practically her arch-nemesis. Though she had seemingly long-since buried the hatchet, it must have been difficult for her to do a complete about-face on her initial opinion of him. He sincerely hoped she didn't feel bad about the misunderstanding, this long after the fact; he really hadn't minded being yelled at, and was just glad he'd made things right with her. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he still held a grudge against her!

The idea seemed ridiculous, since he quite obviously went out of his way to be friendly with her. But what other explanation _was_ there?

It was only recently, after almost a year of sitting adjacent to each other in class, that he finally felt like he had begun to make some progress with her. Maybe it had just taken them a while to get properly acquainted. Having spent some time together, training for the gaming tournament and accompanying Cheng-sifu to the cooking demonstration, they had since started talking together comfortably for the first time since... well, _ever_. When she was relatively at ease, Marinette was fun to be around - she would chat to him about school, their mutual friends, fashion magazines they both read, sewing projects she was working on; she gave him tips on how to get past game levels she had already mastered. Sometimes, she even showed some of the same gentle wit she had displayed in front of Chat Noir. All of it was encouraging, and he was sure things could only get better between them.

He wasn't sure himself why her friendship mattered so much to him. Perhaps it was because she was one of the first people his own age - besides Nino - who had actually stood up to 'Model-Boy Agreste'. When even adults tended to tip-toe around him because of who his father was, it was actually kind of refreshing to find someone who was willing to disagree with him. She was one of few who had actually bothered to question who he was, not just thoughtlessly lapping up the hype that surrounded him.

Perhaps he paid her extra attention _because_ she had gotten him so wrong at first. Even though they hadn't immediately hit it off, she had still agreed to hear him out when he explained himself to her. He was so unused to being listened to, it had meant a great deal to him.

He suddenly realized that he wasn't listening to Plagg, who was talking at him again.

"-in which case, you should definitely ask out Mireille."

"Huh- Mireille...?" That had to be one of the last names he had expected to hear from Plagg! He knew Mireille slightly; he had sometimes seen her in school corridors, or at the tv station on the rare occasions he was there. But asking her out was definitely out of the question - she was already going out with Theo. Having already had one intense romantic rivalry with Copycat, he certainly didn't want to provoke another one! That, however, seemed to be beyond Plagg's point. "Why would I-"

"Because she's so popular!" Plagg exclaimed, as if the answer was obvious. "She got eighty percent of votes in the Kids+ search for a new weather-girl - pretty good, eh? I mean, she obviously can't compete with Ladybug, much-loved paramour of all Paris; but Marinette only has a few admirers, so if it's popularity you're after, Mireille's the next-best choice. No wonder that miss-priss Chloe doesn't have a hope in-"

Plagg had to swerve in the air mid-sentence to avoid the eraser that flew past his head; it bounced off the skateboard-ramp behind him and slid to the floor. Adrien hadn't been seriously aiming - though he almost felt like it.

"As if I care at all about that!" he almost shouted, spinning around in his chair to give Plagg the full force of a good telling-off. "Just drop the subject, will you? I'll talk to Ladybug - and _only_ Ladybug - in my _own_ time. You don't see me telling you how quickly to eat your cheese!"

"Don't you, Mister Slave-driver?" Plagg muttered contemptuously. "It's not like I always get to savour the moment; I remember someone trying to rush me through a perfectly delectable camembert when the Pharaoh was about to-" He neatly dodged a pencil-sharper and apparently gave up, putting on an impressive sulk as he hovered a safe distance away from his holder.

"This is why I stick to cheese," he grumbled, ostensibly to himself, but more than loud enough for Adrien to hear. "Girls are too ambiguous! You always know where you are with cheese. There aren't any in-betweens - either the cheese is there to be eaten, or it's already _been_ eaten." So saying, he zoomed back to the couch and plucked up another morsel of gouda. It was gone in a matter of moments; he seemed to be demonstrating his point by barely chewing, giving the cheese as little in-between time as possible.

Adrien shook his head. He knew Plagg wasn't in as much of a grump as he seemed; he had only been teasing and hadn't really meant most of what he said. At least it gave Adrien someone to talk to; the pointless debate was just _barely_ preferable to the long silences he'd regularly endured before he got his Miraculous.

He turned back to his original task; after a moment, his brow was crinkled in concentration. His Mandarin was quite good, but a lot of the things he was writing out weren't familiar to him. Since Marinette had cooking in common with her uncle, he had decided to teach her mostly kitchen-related phrases. With his current level of competency, he himself might manage to order a meal at a restaurant in Shanghai without any problems; but when it came to things like measures, utensils, techniques, or even basic ingredients, he tended to come up completely blank. He made a mental note to ask his teacher for a specialized vocab list at next week's lesson.

Opening his desk drawer, he glanced at its contents as he reached for his Chinese dictionary.

Besides a few small books and a handful of writing implements, the drawer held some of his most treasured keepsakes. Any other boy his age would only have eyes for his personal arcade of vintage games; his indoor rock-climbing wall; his custom-built skateboarding ramp; or his humongous wide-screen entertainment system. But as far as Adrien was concerned, the most precious things he owned could easily fit inside a single small shoebox.

There was the ornament shaped like a tiny piano, that had topped the cake for his fifth birthday. The gloves, now several sizes too small, he had been wearing when he won his first fencing tournament. The blue-belt he had (recently) earned at karate class. A pin shaped like a tiny silver peacock-feather - his mother had bought it for him, when they had discovered his allergy to the real thing.

He'd kept the slip of paper with the combination for his school locker written on it; he had long since changed the code itself, but hung onto the paper, as a memento of his first day at Francoise-Dupont College. His collection of dockets and ticket-stubs was rapidly growing. Most teenagers might take outings to concerts or cinemas for granted, but Adrien never did, since they were such a rare treat for him. His ticket from his first concert was there, along with the CD autographed for him by Jagged Stone - it was addressed to Chat Noir, so he had placed it right at the back of the drawer, but the one signed by Marinette was proudly out on display! The scarf his father had given him for his birthday was neatly folded, taking pride of place.

The one glaring omission from his collection was something that represented possibly the most important person in his life: Ladybug.

He would have dearly liked to have pocketed something of hers, to remind him of their missions together. But her Lucky Charms tended to disappear after they had been used; and most of the other things she had handled were either too mundane to bother keeping (tempting though it was), or had already been snatched up by hordes of other fans - he was sure Alya had several shelves of battle-trophies made up of her favourite heroine's cast-offs, ranging from oven mitts to paperclips to balls of twine, any of which he would be happy to own himself!

The closest thing he had was a heart-shaped Valentine's Day card which might, or might not, be from the object of his own admiration. He sincerely hoped that it was from his Lady, and the little bug that had accompanied it seemed to prove him right. It might also - perhaps more plausibly - be his wishful thinking, as Plagg had repeatedly told him.

Besides that, the only other token he had from any girl - besides the bag-loads of fan mail he received every day, none of which he bothered to keep - was the card Alya had handed out to the entire class, with the web address for her Ladyblog on it. That, and...

... and Marinette's bracelet.

He had fully intended to give it back to her, but he'd been so preoccupied with making sure Max took his place in the tournament, he had missed his opportunity - not that she had needed it in order to win the trophy! He had meant to return it to her at school any number of times, but he'd always somehow forgotten, or accidentally left it at home.

Part of him wondered if he was subconsciously trying to keep it; the sight of it brought back welcome memories. He had really enjoyed what little time he had spent at Marinette's place. Unlike his own room, and the rest of his father's house, it felt like a _real_ family home, with a _real_ family living in it.

That was why he had jumped at the chance to spend more time there, teaching Marinette. The very errand that took him there was typical of the kind, sweet girl who would soon become his student: Marinette wanted to learn Chinese in order to speak to her uncle. Back when he had tagged along to the cooking demo, he had been touched by how genuinely she wanted her newly-introduced relative to like her. Without a single one of her usual stutters, she had confided to him that Cheng-sifu didn't seem that taken with her; she had been so disappointed that he had crumpled up the bouquet she gave him.

Adrien had jumped to reassure her as quickly as he could. That same desire to be liked was all too familiar to him. He wished that something as simple as learning a foreign language would help him talk to his own father.

He idly ran his finger over the smooth beads of the bracelet, frowning to himself.

Over the past few years, he had spent countless hours coming up with ways to improve his situation with his father - as of yet, he still had no likely solution. At least for all that his infatuation with Ladybug seemed hopeless, he cherished every moment he spent with her; and, if nothing else, he occasionally seemed to entertain her with his antic. Whereas, with his father... they only ever seemed to talk in video-calls anymore, and even then, it was always just instructions or critiques for the many commitments he had in his schedule. He honestly couldn't remember the last time they had made boring small-talk with each other. His father seemed to be fast becoming some kind of robot, programmed to discuss business matters and nothing else.

Even the _extremely_ rare hug they had shared after the incident with Jackady had only been followed by a disapproving assessment of his jewelry.

It was kind of ironic, actually: the two most important people in his life were the ones he had the most trouble talking to! He was really lucky he had Nino to support him - and Plagg, most of the time; but even they could only help him so much. Just look at what had happened when Nino tried to stand up to his father for him! And though he had gladly offered to help his best friend ask out the girl he liked, he couldn't exactly expect the same back in return.

What could he possibly say? - _'Oh hey dude, I'm secretly a costumed super-hero and I've got a crush on my fighting partner, any tips?'_ \- yeah, that would go down well! The only less-useful thing he could think of was asking _his father_ for girl advice - the idea was so ridiculous, it wasn't the least bit funny!

Maybe, if his mother had been here, he could've...

He had _some_ sense of self-preservation; he stopped such thoughts, as he always did, before he could torture himself too much. She _wasn't_ here, and there was no one else...

 _'A girl you like? Perhaps I could help you!'_

Marinette's words suddenly replayed in his mind. That time at the zoo, he had heard her say those exact words over Nino's headset. When he hadn't been busy lamenting how hopelessly his friend had stuffed up his date, he had been thinking that Nino had done well in his choice of crush; not everyone would go out of their way to help a casual acquaintance like Marinette did, and continued to do. Some snatches of school gossip he'd heard, he knew that Marinette had help set Ivan up with Mylene, and had encouraged Kim to give a gift to his ideal girl on Valentine's Day (ill-advised though it had been). He knew _he_ had an incredibly busy schedule, but _her_ life seemed to be pretty hectic, too - yet she never turned down anyone who asked for her help. He'd never really appreciated what a great all-rounder she was (the clumsiness tended to detect from it, perhaps); she was a very dedicated class president, a talented artist, a champ at computer games, an expert seamstress and milliner; if her parents and uncle had taught her anything, she was likely a great baker and cook as well...

He found himself smiling absently as he gazed at the bracelet in his drawer. It wasn't very impressive to look at, made from cheap plastic beads and a raggedy bit of string - nothing like the finely-wrought, gem-studded pieces in his father's collection - but there was a certain something that he liked about it. Something about its simplicity; its honesty and humbleness. It was very characteristic of the girl whose hands had made it.

And it made all the difference in the world that Marinette had _wanted_ to give it to _him_.

He grinned again, reaching for his dictionary and sliding the drawer closed. Perhaps Plagg _did_ have a point; even if he wasn't quite ready to confess his feelings for Ladybug just yet, he could always talk to Marinette. Maybe spending time with her would help him to feel more comfortable around girls; once he'd gotten used to her presence, maybe he could work up the courage to finally-

No, that didn't seem right. He wasn't going to use Marinette's friendship for his own gain - that was the sort of thing _Chloe_ would do.

Besides, he realized, he genuinely _did_ want to get to know Marinette herself, as a friend. It wouldn't be too much of a chore to spend time at her bakery, teaching her Mandarin. In fact, he was really looking forward to it.

The possibility of scoring a few pastries didn't hurt, either - if he was going to have an ulterior motive, that would be it!

* * *

 _Author's note: I originally planned to tack something more plot-oriented on the end of this chapter, but it turned out fairly long on its own, so I'll leave it til next time. Besides, since Marinette had a whole chapter to herself, I thought Adrien should have one too!_

 _This chapter isn't really integral to the plot, other than establishing Adrien's status and motivations going into the story. I dunno... I just really wanted to come up with some plausible take on how he regards Marinette! How do you explain his complete obliviousness to her obvious crush?! This was the best I could come up with! Besides, I think he really is starting to notice and like her more as the episodes go on - he went to great lengths to help her in Kung Food, which seemed like some sort of break-through. I'm no specific kind of shipper, but I love to see them interacting comfortably and opening up to one another!_

 _I might as well come clean and admit it: Chat Noir/Adrien is my favourite character. It's funny, to look at the sort of archetype he is (and the travesty that is Chat Noir's sense of humour), he seems like the sort that might annoy me; but I actually find him really appealing, and his story really compelling. In both guises, he always tries so hard, yet never gets as much acknowledgement as he deserves; he seems to have it all, but he can't have what he really wants. It's a very interesting characterization to explore, and I'm really looking forward to seeing how he develops in the next series of the show._

 _(For the record, I adore Marinette, too - she's so much like me, it's uncanny sometimes! I never realized I was missing out on a half-Chinese, socially-anxious role model until I started watching the show!)_

 _While I'm prattling on, did anyone else notice that 'Adrien' is an anagram of 'Darien', the English-language name of Tuxedo Mask in the original Sailor Moon anime? I know, it's totally irrelevant - but I can't help thinking that it's somehow significant!_

 _Regarding the title of this story, I'm considering changing it to 'A Class Act'. Anyone approve/disapprove? I don't like altering something as major as that this far into the writing process, but I'm very tempted. If you post a review, feel free to let me know which name you would prefer!_

 _And I've just written the first chapter in a new series of Miraculous one-shots, 'Lost and Found' - if you like this story, please check out that one as well! ~ W.J._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Chloe stifled a shriek of frustration, raking at the crown of her head with claw-like fingertips.

Despite what she had paid for that wig, it must have been a cheap one after all: her scalp was currently one big _agony_ of an itch. Despite the discomfort, she was actually feeling rather pleased with herself. She had always thought that her hair was her best feature; but if it was as sensitive as all this, it was even more sophisticated than she had thought! The offender had been ruthlessly dealt with: she had crammed the wig in the wastepaper basket beneath her desk, awaiting a more final demise when the cleaner came to empty it the following morning. Giving the wig one last hostile glare, she stalked across the suite to her dressing table, where her other victim lay helpless: the diary, unlocked and rife to be ransacked.

At last: after all the oppression she had suffered at the hands of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, she would finally have enough ammunition to completely destroy her! There _had_ to be some secrets here that could do some serious damage - why else would it be so elaborately guarded?

Taking a deep breath and revelling in the premature thrill of her triumph for just a moment longer, she flipped open the cover. Pages lined with Marinette's neat writing flicked before her eyes. So it really _was_ a hand-written journal . How out-dated! Chloe had half-expected a clunky tablet, or at least a palm pilot. Were the Dupain-Chengs so poor they couldn't even afford a simple laptop?! _Really_...

She let the diary fall open at random. With Sabrina doing her history homework for her, she had time to spare; she could peruse at leisure, searching thoroughly for the most incriminating material the journal had to offer.

Starting at a fairly recent entry, she began to read.

 _Dear Diary,  
Sometimes, it feels like all I ever do is lie to everyone. I hate dishonesty, so it makes me feel even worse that I can't tell the truth to the people I care about most..._

Who would've thought that she would find something so quickly! Chloe was impressed with herself - and with Marinette's ability to land herself in scandal. These words must be the precursor to something incredibly shameful! Impatiently flattening the diary open with triple-varnished fingernails, she read the next scrawl.

 _My birthday is coming up next month. Maman and Papa are already talking about what they might get me as a present. They say it's a lot harder now that I'm older, which is totally untrue - I know I would love anything they might get me! The problem is, they seem to have already decided that I need a new pair of earrings, since I wear the same old ones all the time. I told them..._

Chloe scoffed. How were new earrings a problem? She got dozens of hoops and ear-bobs all the time - wearing the same ones twice was _so_ unsanitary! But she could see how it might be a problem for a dirt-poor nobody like Marinette - her parents would probably have to sell the bakery just to afford a pair of simple studs! While that certainly _was_ shameful, it wasn't exactly breaking news; everyone already knew that the Bourgeoise wealth easily eclipsed that of the Dupain-Chengs. She impatiently skimmed ahead down the page, hoping for something juicier. If she was going to properly humiliate her arch-nemesis, she would need something much better than that!

 _... don't mind my old ones, but they seem to think I'm just worried about how expensive it would be. Normally I'd love to receive something like that, but of course it's out of the question! I've got to find a way to dissuade them, I have no idea how. I can't just explain to them that I need these earrings to transform..._

What?

 _... went anywhere without them, I might suddenly need my Miraculous powers to..._

What?!

 _...something like an akuma attack and I couldn't turn into Ladybug, it would..._

WHAT?!

Chloe snatched her hand away as if she had been burned; the diary flopped closed. She stared at it with something akin to fear in her eyes.

That was... no way, it wasn't possible... what was written, it couldn't... _there was no way-_

After a few minutes' blind panic, she finally came to her senses. She actually laughed out loud, scolding herself for being so stupid. Of course Marinette Dupain-Cheng couldn't be Ladybug - because really, this was _Marinette_ , the one person in Paris who was as opposite of Ladybug as one could get! The very idea was _hysterical_ \- klutzy, clumsy little Marinette, tripping over roof-tiles and running into chimneys! Give her a yoyo and tell her to aim it at even the broadest akuma, she'd probably still manage to hit Chat Noir instead!

If that was so, then what did it make _this_? Some sort of... elaborate fantasy? An imaginary role-play? A stash of closet fan-fiction? _How pathetic!_

Chloe pondered for a moment, wondering if she could somehow use this for her original purpose. It _was_ potentially humiliating - it had to be, otherwise Marinette wouldn't go to such lengths to hide it! Her bothersome friend, Alya, ran the Ladyblog, right? She was the self-proclaimed biggest Ladybug-fan in Paris - a title which Chloe rightfully reserved for herself - so if Marinette were willing to share it with anyone, it _should_ be her. Chloe occasionally visited the Ladyblog - much as she was loath to admit it, it _was_ the best source of Ladybug info anywhere on the web - though there were eyewitness accounts, opinion polls, and even fan-made artwork aplenty, she had never seen anything resembling fan-fiction on there.

Chloe slowly started to smile again, rubbing her hands together in eagerness. It certainly wasn't what she had been expecting - but it actually might turn out to have just the effect she was after. Imagine how the class would react when their much-loved president was revealed to be nothing but a hysterical fan-girl - a disgusting loser so dull and mundane, she had to pretend to be a super-heroine with a fake journal, just to make it seem as if anything remotely interesting ever happened to her! Yes, this should work - if she read a few of these entries out loud at school, Marinette should die of shame!

She ran a thumb over the diary's edge. The pages flipped steadily before her eyes; among the entries, she could see the words 'Ladybug' and Chat Noir' recurring frequently. Her lips curved up in a predatory grin. There was plenty of fodder here; she could browse through all the material she had, selecting the most devastatingly cringe-worthy passages to drop during tomorrow's early class. She couldn't wait for everyone in school to finally see Marinette as she herself did - as the hopeless, worthless, unredeemable _freak_ that she was!

But before all that-

She went to a cupboard, snatching up a clean towel and a bottle of 'Agreste for Mademoiselle' shampoo. She had to wash the last of the wig's residue out of her hair - the constant itching was about to drive her crazy!

* * *

She spent all afternoon scrubbing.

She started out tentatively, taking care not to damage the fragile silk. When this had no effect, she began to scour harder and harder, enough to pill the fabric and pull loose threads - still to no avail.

How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? It didn't really matter; however much she scrubbed, the scarf still resembled a purple version of a Jackson Pollock painting. The stains only appeared to fade when her eyes were clouded by tears.

As the scratch of the sponge and the slosh of water finally subsided, the only sound left in the quiet flat was that of her sobs.

 _A selfless instructor dedicated to the future of our nation's youth - only to be rewarded with the destruction of what she cherishes most. Such disillusionment is to me like an open book; it shall make for instructive reading. Fly, little akuma, and blacken her heart! Darken the bitter lines that are already written there!_

Slumped over the basin, she didn't see the shadow at the open window; didn't hear the faint flutter as something crossed the sill.

A scrap of darkness collided with the cloth in her hands. Just like the scarf, the butterfly's wings had once been pure white; now, they were an inky shade of lurid violet. It dyed the entire scarf the exact same hue as soon as it touched. At once she jerked upright, like a puppet with its strings pulled taunt, standing at attention. Awaiting orders.

 _Schoolmistress, I am Papillion. Books and pages have long been your faithful friends; now you shall use them to teach those obnoxious brats who wronged you a lesson they won't forget. In return, I only ask that you to archive Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous for me._

She raised her head, a butterfly-shaped visor glinting sinisterly before her face. Her mild features had contorted into a vengeful smile.

"I like your lesson plan, Papillion. I shall implement it, just as you instruct - as soon as class begins."

* * *

Marinette felt very responsible and grown-up as she trotted into school a whole half-hour early.

She carried the ballot box with her, and heaved a sigh of satisfaction once it was safely stowed beneath the circulation desk in the school's library. She had hoped to lock it in the back office for safe keeping - she still suspected a certain _someone_ might attempt to tamper with it at some point during the day - but the head librarian didn't seem to be around. Perhaps there was a staff meeting or something.

As soon as she walked through the classroom door, she knew that everyone was already thinking about that afternoon's vote. Everyone was clustered in groups around their desks, talking excitedly; when they turned and saw her come in, several people flashed her ingratiating smiles.

Oh dear. Who knew the student council was so corrupt? It was only a matter of time until someone attempted to bribe her, all for the sake of ensuring that they had the after-school club of their choice.

"Hey girl, you made it in time!" Alya rushed forward to greet her; she seized her by the wrist and half-dragged her to her desk, giving her only a brief moment during which to smile and wave at Adrien as she passed.

She caught a glimpse of Chloe lounging in her seat, smiling and casually tapping a designer-clad foot against the leg of her desk. Huh, she looked strangely pleased this morning. Maybe she had entered into the class spirit and was looking forward to choosing the club theme along with all the other 'plebeians'? Stranger things had happened...

"I've been dying to show you these!" Alya squealed, demanding her attention. " _Everyone_ will want to have a Ladybug club once they see this! Check it out!"

She tapped Nino excitedly on the arm; they turned away, fumbled with something beneath their desks, then whirled around. In an instant, they were both as drastically transformed as if they had called upon their own Miraculous: Alya wore a headband with antennae made of springs, tiny ladybug-shaped bobbles perched on their ends; while Nino was sporting a pair of novelty sunglasses with lenses in the shape of giant green paw-prints. They leaned across Alya's desk towards each other, posing and pulling ridiculous kissy-faces. Every so often, they changed positions perfectly in sync, as if an invisible photographer was repeatedly snapping at them.

Marinette was doubled up in her seat with laughter. Sure, the spectacle was funny enough on its own - several of her classmates, having spotted what was going on, were also laughing - but the fact that it was her own alter-ego's merchandise they were modelling was just hilarious! She really should be scolding Alya - as vice-president, she was supposed to remain impartial up until that afternoon's decision - but that would require being able to breathe!

Through streaming eyes, she saw that Adrien had his hands up in front of him, trigger-finger poised, as if he were the one photographing them; after a few 'snaps' he gave up and slumped along the edge of her desk, laughing helplessly. Marinette gave a giggle of a different kind. It was good to see that her crushed shared her sense of humour - though of course he didn't have the same reason as her to find it all so funny!

Adrien looked up at her, leaning on his arm as he wiped one last tear from his eye. "Hey, I wanted to ask you something," he said, flashing her a disarming grin; she was glad she was more or less accustomed to its powerful effects, or she just might have melted before its utter gorgeousness. "I have a bit of free time on Saturday. Would you like to have your first Chinese lesson then? I'm sorry it's so short-notice, but-"

"No, that would be fine!" Marinette replied, taking care not to slur her words together in her haste to accept. _Easy girl, think before you speak, slowly does it..._ "I'm free all of Saturday, so whatever time you want is okay with me. Should we do it at my place? My mum takes over the cooking on weekends, she just might be making my Uncle Cheng's famed pot-sticker recipe..."

Adrien grinned all over his face. "I wouldn't want to take advantage of your hospitality, but... that sounds great." He winked at her. "My lunch plans are sorted."

She beamed back at him, vaguely wondering if it was possible to literally overflow with happiness - she certainly felt capable of it right now! "Great! I'll let my parents know this afternoon, I'm sure they'll be happy to -"

"Oh, are you making plans for the weekend?"

Marinette jumped; the mocking voice had spoken almost directly in her ear. She turned to find Chloe standing just behind her, a knowing smirk plastered across her face. Adrien eyed her warily. Alya doffed her headband and sat up in alertness, ready to leap to her best friend's defence if necessary; from behind his glasses, Nino's eyes flitted between nervously between the girls.

"Yes, we are, Chloe," Marinette said, calmly. She was class president, and she'd just made a date with Adrien; she felt able to handle just about _anything_ right now "What does it matter to you? You have no interest in Chinese; the soup in particular disagrees with you."

"It certainly doesn't matter to me what you do," Chloe returned in a bored voice, examining her nails. "I just thought that maybe you'd be too busy saving Paris to make any other appointments."

"Wh-?" Marinette froze, every trace of her good mood gone, her mind a blank expanse of roiling panic. _What on earth did she-?_

"You don't write your plans down in a diary, do you?" Chloe went on, still with apparent disinterest. "I guess you only write down the things you've already done - eh, Miss Saviour-of-Paris, our Ladybug-in-disguise. Or should that be Wanna-bug, full of lies?"

She stepped back to her desk, rummaged in an expensive tote-bag, and drew out a very familiar diary with a pink-and-white-spotted cover.

"Ah-! That's my-!"

Marinette instantly clammed up. She didn't want to say something incriminating - not that anything she did or didn't say could help her now. Several of the other students were pointing and whispering, having recognized the journal from Chloe's previous burglary attempt. They had evidently caught some of her words; they had stopped their own conversations to listen to what was going on. The bottom dropped out of Marinette's stomach, as she realized what must be coming; to her horror, several gilt-edged bookmarks were sticking out of the top of the journal. Chloe must have already had a good peruse... she must have already seen-

Chloe flashed a victorious leer. "Looks like you misplaced it! Don't worry, though, I'll fill you in on everything you've been up to lately, in case you've forgotten. Let's see, where shall we start? Oh, here's a good one!" She flipped the journal to a marked page and settled it open on her lap, with the air of a teacher leading storytime. " _Dear Diary, sometimes it feels like all I ever do is lie to everyone..._ "

She began to recite the entry in a high, nasal voice, darting satisfied glances at the students around her, who were listening and looking at Marinette with increasing wonderment.

 _"...can't just explain to them that I need these earrings to transform..."_

There was little Marinette could do but grit her teeth and hope it was over soon; trying to drown Chloe out or snatch the diary away from her would only draw more attention - and betray how frantic she felt inside.

" _...something like an akuma attack and I couldn't turn into Ladybug, it would..._ "

Still, it was almost more than her endurance could take; once glance at the people around her was almost enough to make her snap. Alya was watching Chloe with her mouth agape, a flabbergasted expression on her face. Nino's brow were hitched up under the brim of his cap, his eyes confused. Adrien's clean-cut features were arranged in a startlingly blank look, his glazed stare trained on his former close-friend.

Chloe finished the entry and licked her lips, as if she tasted fresh blood. "Well, wasn't that entertaining? I bet none of you knew about our class-president's fascinating double life, huh? More like a faked, doubtful lie! Trying to pass off all those bruised knees as hits you've taken in fights, not badges of your own clumsiness? Were all those mornings when you were late due to sleeping in after a late-night akuma attack? And just how do you feel about your best friend dedicating not just her blog, but her selection of _class club_ to you? Perhaps the next entry will tell us all about it!" She turned the page, selecting another entry with deliberation; her eyes had taken on an even more malicious gleam.

" _Dear Diary, I was two spots away from transforming back and revealing my true identity to Chat Noir-_ "

Marinette gave an involuntary yelp and lunged at Chloe, making a mad grab for the journal; the girl merely side-stepped her and kept on reading in a louder voice, gleefully aware that she'd managed to sink her fangs in.

 _"-I'm lucky that my silly Minou isn't an unscrupulous person. Even though he's often said that he'd like it if we knew each other's secret identities, he still warned me that I had to leave before I changed back. When he does sincere things like that, it only makes me feel worse for discouraging him. He's my partner, and I know I can trust him, but I'm just too scared to let him get that close. Amid all the craziness of being a super-hero, I still have something that resembles an ordinary life. Having him able to come busting in on Marinette's day-to-day routine at any time would put all that at risk. He's a good friend - one of my best - but I just don't think I'm quite ready for-_ "

Marinette had heard more than enough. It looked as if she wasn't the only one: Alya had switched her gaze from Chloe to her and was mouthing at her silently, apparently trying to think of something to say. Nino was frowning at her, as if she was a maths problem that he couldn't figure out. All around the classroom, she could see other people eying her incredulously, could hear things being whispered behind hands.

Worst of all, Adrien was giving her a look that made her feel like every embarrassing thing she had ever done in front of him had been rolled into one and replayed before his eyes: he was staring guilelessly at her, his mouth open, his lip almost curled in a sneer-

Marinette lurched out of her seat and bolted for the door, fighting back tears. She reached the corridor and charged on blindly, hearing startled shouts as passing students were forced to duck out of her way. She paid no attention, didn't stop; she just wanted to keep on running until Chloe's voice was left far enough behind to never taunt her again.

"Well," Chloe was saying, closing the diary with a satisfying snap. "Our super-heroine sure can go fast at times, can't she? I hope she doesn't get into a fight with any fearsome stairs on her way out, she doesn't have a good record against them! Maybe she'd beat all those akuma a bit quicker if she could manage to run without-"

She was interrupted by someone else dashing past her, stopping her mid-sentence. Who it was took them all by surprise: they would have expected Alya to go after her best friend, but she was still rooted to her seat, unsure of how to react after what had just gone down.

She, along with everyone else, could only watch with mystified expressions as Adrien sped out the door, heading in the same direction that Marinette had taken.

* * *

 _Author's note: I'd just like to point out that the views expressed about the patheticness of fan-fiction are Chloe's opinion, not mine ;)_

 _I decided to change the title after all; formerly, this story was known as 'School of Luck'. Who knows, I might eventually change my mind again and revert back - let me know which you prefer!_

 _By the way, thanks to GoldenGoddess for the first-chapter correction: gold only goes up to 24 carats, not 40. Sorry, that wasn't Chloe being stupid, just me - I must have been thinking of 14 carats, numbers are not my forte! ~ W.J._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Adrien raced through the school corridors without really knowing where he meant to go. He hadn't really thought this through; he had no idea where Marinette had gone, or where he could expect to find her - much less what he would say to her when he did. Still, it didn't slow him down; his feet seemed to know where to take him. Maybe his cat-like instincts were taking over, his intuition leading him where he had to go.

"What do you think you are doing?"

 _Speaking of cat-like things..._

Plagg had crept up until he nestled just below the neck of his shirt, able to whisper in Adrien's ear without being seen or overheard. "Why the sudden rush?" he asked. He sounded rather non-plussed; he had probably been looking forward to a peaceful day of napping in Adrien's schoolbag and nibbling on camembert.

"I'm going after Marinette," Adrien muttered in response - wasn't it obvious? "She seemed so upset, I thought I should-"

"Are you going to comfort her, or interrogate her?"

"Wha-?" Adrien slowed his pace in surprise, but only for a moment. "What do you-"

"You've been wanting to know Ladybug's secret identity for a while now, right?" He felt Plagg shift beneath his shirt, wiggling until he nestled comfortably in the groove of his collarbone. "I guess Prissy Girl came in good for something - you got a whole book of proof as to who she is right there! I can't believe Tikki would let her girl keep a stupid journal like-"

"H-hold on, Plagg, that diary wasn't... it couldn't be..."

Adrien found himself fumbling for his words. He had assumed that the diary had been fake - because really, this was _Marinette_ they were talking about. Sure, Marinette was amazing: talented, loyal, brave, capable of many feats, but... but _Ladybug_ was...

"Just what kind of proof are you looking for?" Plagg wanted to know.

"That wasn't even proof," Adrien hissed in reply. "That was just Chloe being spiteful! And Marinette doing some _really_ good fictional writing."

Really, _really_ good writing - after that recital, Adrien was willing to bet that she'd get a literary prize one day, as well as an award for fashion design. The way she had captured Ladybug's viewpoint had been so believable, so insightful...

Maybe it was her designer's imagination that allowed her to come up with something so convincing? Or maybe Marinette understood Ladybug so well because she was a teenage girl herself? Though Ladybug was too old to be a student any more, she had said so herself; he was _very_ concerned about whether she would willingly date a younger man or not...

"Whatever you want to think, kid," Plagg replied, giving a yawn that made the fabric of his shirt billow.

Adrien eyed the black shape under his lapel. "Shouldn't _you_ know whether she's Ladybug or not? I mean, Ladybug has a kwami just like you-"

"Tikki is _not_ like me, thank you very much!" Plagg was quick to retort."You think that Nathalie of yours is a drag - I bet it wouldn't take _her_ as long as a couple dozen centuries to finally lighten up. Though if Tikki _did_ allow her girl to keep a diary, maybe she's mellowed more than she should have..."

"Psychoanalysis aside," Adrien muttered, "shouldn't you be able to... sense when she's nearby, or something? I mean, you're both kwamis-"

"Yeah, we're kwamis, not transistor radios," Plagg cut in. "Actually, it's more accurate to say we're like radio _jammers_ : we hide our wielders' identities to keep them safe, including from other Miraculous-holders."

" _What_ -?!" Adrien bit back his incredulous yelp; Aurore was sidling past him, looking at him suspiciously. He smiled brightly at her until he had left her behind, then zeroed in on Plagg again. "You actually _hide me_?! With, what - some kind of concealment magic, or something?"

"Eh, more or less." He felt Plagg shrug against his shoulder. "I can't be bothered explaining it; you probably wouldn't understand it anyway."

"You could have told me about this before now," Adrien grumbled.

"What, it never occurred to you on your own? Chat Noir isn't that different from your average self, y'know - the suit doesn't cover much extra, save your eyes. Didn't you ever wonder why Papillion hasn't spied you on a billboard and raced directly to your house by now?"

"Yes," Adrien grouchily admitted. That exact thought had made him sleep uneasily on many a night.

"Well, now you know," Plagg said, in a smug tone. "I do a lot more for you than you think, kid."

Adrien had to admit this was true; still, he held something of a grudge. "So, all those times I stopped a stylist from doing my hair in a messy bed-head-" He had studiously avoided it, sure that it would make him look far too much like Chat. But if that wasn't enough to overcome some magical anti-recognition charm...

Plagg chuckled darkly. "Half the hairdressers in Paris think you're just overly-precious about your head of fur."

Adrien gave a long-suffering groan and took a few quicker strides. The discussion had made him lose time and concentration: he had to find Marinette.

"I hope an akuma doesn't get to her," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"Don't worry," Plagg piped up. "If she _is_ Ladybug, Tikki will protect her. Our powers do that too."

This was too much for Adrien; he actually skidded to a halt. "You stop us from getting _possessed_?!" He fought to keep from raising his voice; he resorted to a furious whisper.

"Sure!" Plagg was being infuriatingly matter-of-fact. "You wouldn't be much use if you were vulnerable enough to be taken over that easy; my influence makes you invisible to someone like Papillion. Besides, why do you think you were chosen, kid? You could probably repel one of those butterflies all on your own. My Miraculous wouldn't have been given to just any old weakling!"

It was as close to a compliment as Plagg seemed capable of; yet Adrien didn't feel much pleased by it. He didn't say what both of them were thinking: he had been disappointed by his father so many times, he must be impervious to all sorts of emotional upsets by now.

"Didn't you have a princess to chase down?" Plagg asked, jabbing him impatiently in the chest.

Adrien didn't say anything; he merely took off down the hall again. He knew Plagg liked to mess with him, but he could tell by the kwami's almost apologetic tone that he was actually a bit sorry for keeping so much back. He was glad he had gotten around to telling at last, though he would have preferred to have heard all this a lot sooner: knowing it before now would have lifted a huge weight off his mind. It also allowed him to worry less about Ladybug - she had the same protection from her kwami as he got from Plagg, so she would be alright. That fact alone let him breathe a whole lot easier.

Right now, he was more worried about Marinette. His classmate was one of the most affable people he knew, but he had learned from experience that it would matter very little with an akuma. She had looked more than upset enough to get taken over - when she had rushed out of class, he was sure she had been on the verge of tears.

The memory of it made his heart clench. Marinette was one of his first and closest school friends; after everything she did for others, she deserved far better than to become another victim of Papillion's evil influence. He hoped he was able to reach her in time.

He let his natural sense of direction choose his path for him, realizing he was headed for a place he must have decided on from the outset: the students' locker room was just up ahead.

* * *

Marinette was sitting hunched up on a bench, her forehead resting on her bent-up knees. Tikki was in her lap, looking up concernedly up into her face.

"It's okay, Marinette," she said, stroking the girl's cheek.

"No, it's not okay," Marinette said, in a broken voice that struggled to conceal more than one impending sob. "It's the opposite of okay; it's as far as you can _get_ from okay!" She opened the eyes that she had closed against unshed tears, gazing tragically down at her anxious kwami. "They all know, Tikki. They _must_ know. After hearing that, how could they not-"

"I don't think they do, Marinette," Tikki said, slowly. She didn't want to get her wielder's hopes up; still, she was well-aware of her own abilities. It was time her partner knew about them as well. "At least, I'm _pretty_ sure they don't. My magic should keep them from finding out."

"Your... magic?" Marinette repeated; this was news to her, and she was still more than a little sceptical. "Tikki, is your magic enough to hush up as much as _that_? I mean, they all heard-"

"They'll probably just pass it off as a series of imaginative stories," Tikki said, trying her best to be reassuring. "You're so creative, Marinette, it would be easy to believe." She floated down to rest on Marinette's leg again, giving her knee a comforting pat. "I'm protecting you all the time, you know. It's one of the powers of the Miraculous! You really don't look that different when you transform: it's just Marinette in a suit and a mask. My magic misdirects everyone, so that even people who see you every day - like Alya and your parents - don't recognize you when you're Ladybug. Isn't that useful?"

Marinette blinked, managing to give her a watery smile - Tikki didn't fish for compliments very often! "Yes, that's very useful. And it explains a lot, actually. You're sure no one will suspect the truth?"

"I'm very sure!" Tikki looked proud of herself. "I'm pretty good at what I do. I should be - I've been doing it for thousands of years!"

"So you have," Marinette agreed. It was a great relief to know that her closest ally was always looking out for her! Still, she felt just a little bit let-down. "Why didn't you mention this sooner? You could have saved me a lot of worry!"

Tikki chuckled sheepishly. "I didn't want you to start getting careless - I'm good, but I'm not infallible! I can keep you from being found out most of the time; but if someone came across direct proof, or actually saw you transform, I wouldn't be able to cover it up."

"Oh." Marinette considered for a moment. "So, if Alya had seen my name in that text book I dropped-"

"Yeah, that wouldn't have been good. Maybe it's time to stop keeping that diary?" the kwami helpfully suggested.

Marinette grinned ruefully. Tikki had warned her it was a bad idea, no matter how fool-proof her locking system had seemed! Her kwami had been right; the whole class-election incident should have taught her a valuable lesson. "Yeah, I agree. With both you and Master Fu to talk things over with, it's not like I really need it anymore."

Tikki smiled up at her encouragingly. "That's good. And I think you'll be alright after this. Still, it was a close one!"

"You can say that again." Marinette was feeling better; not completely fine, but enough to raise her head and sit up. "I'm glad you told me. I was so scared - I honestly thought I was upset enough to get turned into an akuma!"

Tikki frowned up at her. She knew her holder had suffered a frightening shock; she wanted to make sure Marinette knew just how safe she really was. "That wouldn't happen, Marinette - I wouldn't let it . My power protects you from Papillion, too. His butterflies can never find you while my magic is shielding you."

Marinette's eyebrows shot up - she hadn't known about that either! "Really? Huh. Anything else you want to share with me?" She managed to crack a teasing smile.

Tikki felt bad, but she was glad her partner was feeling better enough to make a wry joke. "Nope, that's all. I didn't want to give you too much to think about; you've been so close to getting overwhelmed by everything as it is." Seeing the girl's face fall at her words, Tikki quickly darted up to cuddle against her cheek. "No, I didn't mean it like that! You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, Marinette. Master Fu wouldn't have chosen you if he didn't think you were capable of repelling an akuma on your own. That's how much faith he had in you when you were selected."

Marinette sighed. "I guess," she said, though she sounded unconvinced. "I'm just glad that we won't have to test that theory. And it's good to know that Chat Noir is protected too."

Tikki rolled her eyes. "If Plagg isn't too lazy to bother looking out for him."

Marinette chuckled. Tikki rarely spoke of Chat Noir's kwami; when she did, she made him sound like some kind of bratty brother- figure. A new thought occurred to her.

"So, wait - does your identity shield work on other people with kwamis? Could Chat or-"

"Yes, I shield you from other Miraculous-holders too," Tikki assured her. "So you're doubly safe from Papillion."

Marinette heaved a sigh of relief. She had wondered if people with a better-than-average knowledge of magic could detect her and Tikki - it was good to know that she was thoroughly safe from detection! "I guess compared to Papillion, keeping my secret from a dozen high-schoolers should be child's play to you."

Tikki giggled delightedly at the compliment. "I wouldn't say that! Your classmates are pretty clever; someone like Alya would-"

She broke off abruptly, gazing fearfully at the door to the locker room. Marinette also heard what she had: running footsteps were rapidly approaching, echoing down the hall towards them. They were lucky they had so much warning: Tikki darted for her purse, phasing inside it just in time.

Marinette braced herself, sure that Alya had come after her with a thousand questions - despite what Tikki had told her, she still had some doubts. As her kwami had just pointed out, Alya was pretty determined; she put a lot of research into the making of her blog. If anyone was going to put the pieces together...

But it wasn't Alya. To her very great surprise, the footsteps slowed, and a moment later, Adrien rounded the door frame.

* * *

He came to a halt just inside the doorway. He seemed surprised to see her there.

She shifted her weight and shuffled her feet nervously, getting ready to leave. Of all people, Adrien was about the last she wanted to face while she was in a state like this - Chloe and Papillion were only slightly below him! Besides, given the way he had stared at her in the classroom, he probably wanted nothing to do wi-

"Hey, I was looking for you!"

She had been staring at her shoes, avoiding his gaze; at his words, her head shot up. "Y-y-you have...?" she managed to say, with a return of her former stutter.

"Yeah, I was worried about you..."

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Much as he considered Marinette to be a good friend, it wasn't really his place to do this sort of thing. Alya, or any of the other female members of their class, would probably be better at this kind of thing - he really didn't have much experience with girls! Still, he was so concerned about her, and she still looked so miserable, that he felt he ought to try. If nothing else, he told himself, it was his protective duty as Chat Noir to aid his Princess; the least her cat-eared knight could do was to offer a comforting word or two.

He had to admit, another cat-like tendency was coming to the fore: he was intensely curious about what she had written. How had she managed to create something so believable? He had probably scoured Alya's Ladyblog more thoroughly than any other visitor, and yet he'd never read anything like what Marinette had come up with. How had she even known that his Lady's nickname for him was 'Minou'? Did she get extra facts from Alya that weren't published online? Did she do a bit of investigating herself? Was it possible that... that she _knew Ladybug?_

Trying to banish Plagg's mention of an 'interrogation' from his mind, he cautiously crossed the room and sat down on the bench next to her. She hunched up her shoulders and made herself small to accommodate him, but didn't tell him to go away; he fully expected her to if he wasn't welcome.

"I'm sorry about what Chloe did," he began. After the conflict that had taken place at their first meeting, he wanted to make it perfectly clear whose side he was on. "She's done some pretty horrible things before, but this was totally out of line. To think that she went so far as to go to your house and-"

"N-no, it's mostly my own fault," Marinette interrupted him. She still felt bad enough about how she had behaved when she had first met him; the last thing she wanted was for him to become Chloe's unofficial apologizer. "I shouldn't have written those things down. It was all just a stupid game of pretend; it was childish of me to be playing make-believe like that, at my age..."

"I've always thought you were an admirably mature middle-schooler," he said, with a hint of a grin.

She blinked at him, smiling despite herself; though he seemed to be saying it just to cheer her up, it was still a compliment.

"Besides, it's nothing to be ashamed of," he added. "In fact, I thought what you wrote was really incredible. It was easy to believe that it really _could_ be the diary of a super-hero."

Marinette gulped - this was one of those make-or-break situations that Tikki had warned her about! She leaned back on her hands, trying to seem matter-of-fact and modest; she would have to convincingly lie her way out of this one!

"Thanks, but it's pretty obvious that I'm not Ladybug - I can barely keep my balance on flat ground, let alone run over rooftops! I just..." She cast her mind around, trying to imagine what it must be like to see Ladybug as an average civilian. Now was where the _real_ make-believe began! "I hear a lot about her from Alya, and... and, um, I sometimes see Ladybug go by, from the terrace above our bakery." _Well, since Ladybug frequented the rooftop in question, it wasn't exactly a lie..._ "She's even waved and spoken to me a few times as she passed. I've often wondered what it would be like to be her; I mean, she's a young Parisian girl just like me, so I found it kind of fun to imagine..."

Adrien hastily swallowed his disappointment. He only then realized how much he'd gotten his hopes up: he'd thought he might have finally found some other connection with his Lady! Still, Marinette's stories were all the more impressive for being works of pure fantasy - he had almost fooled himself into thinking that they could be real.

"You did an amazing job - you're a very talented writer!" he said, with genuine admiration. She smiled shyly at him, grinning her thanks. Though she no longer seemed distraught, it was clear to see that she was still highly embarrassed about the whole thing. He didn't see why she should be - who wouldn't aspire to be like his Lady? Even Chloe did! He gave Marinette a sidelong glance. It wouldn't quite be truthful, but... well, if it was for a good cause, there really wouldn't be any harm in telling her...

"Want to know a secret?" he asked, dropping his voice to a hushed tone and leaning towards her in a conspiratorial manner. She gazed at him in surprise, giving a startled nod; she leaned forwards as well, fighting not to blush at how close she was to him.

"Sometimes, I like to imagine... that I am Chat Noir!"

Marinette suppressed an incredulous snort just in time. Though she raised a hand to smother her laughter as soon as it formed, she didn't quite manage to hide it. Adrien was giving her a slightly injured look; she hastily pulled herself together.

"S-sorry, I'm not laughing - I have no right to laugh, after what I did - but I really wouldn't have imagined it!"Nope, she really wouldn't - she had scoffed at the idea that time Alya had tried to claim there were similarities, and she was just as dismissive of it now. After all, Alya didn't have first-hand knowledge like _she_ did. Poised, composed Adrien was nothing at all like her goofy, gangly alley-cat; they were miles apart!

She smiled fondly, realizing she was being unfair in her assessment. Chat Noir wasn't any lesser than Adrien - well, only in her affections! - he was just... different. She could see why Adrien might respect someone of Chat's abilities. After all, he was invaluable to Ladybug; just as she had written, she considered him to be one of her closest friends. He was indispensable to her, she would be the first to admit it - if he wasn't constantly try to ingratiate himself to her!

Adrien shrugged good-naturedly; his shoulders honestly felt a little lighter for having heard her derisive laughter. Though it was meant to be a false confession of playing pretend, he had been just a little bit worried that Marinette might suspect the truth - after all, she had met Chat Noir a few times! It looked as if Plagg's deflective powers were working...

"It's okay, I don't take offence," he said, seeing that she was desperately trying to rein in her giggles. "It's only pretend, so it doesn't have to be plausible. It's fun just to think about whether it could be possible, you know. What it must be like to vault through the air, leap tall buildings in a single bound, deflect blows with a single swipe of a baton - it must feel incredible. To have the freedom to roam the city as nobody else can; to have the power to change things, the chance to help save lives..."

He couldn't keep a bit of genuine wistfulness from his voice. Sometimes, it was hard to stop being Chat and go back to his plain old life as Adrien. When he climbed back in through the window to find the silent room and the mounting pressures still there waiting for him, it was rather difficult for him to accept that this was supposed to be his _real_ self. As much as rich, famous, genetically-blessed Adrien Agreste supposedly had an enviable life, it was a fairly useless one; all his supposed 'celebrity' really did was help to sell clothes. It was Chat who rescued people, defeated villains, helped his Lady, made a difference to Paris... he would give just about anything to make that his true self, to live it all the time...

Marinette found herself staring at him. She had never heard it put like that before. Though being Ladybug often seemed to bring her nothing but unwanted worries and extra responsibilities, it _was_ kind of liberating. To have the ability and grace to deal with things, that she never had in her civilian life; to have the kind of confidence and self-assurance she could only ever dream of possessing herself. She _did_ appreciate all that, though her sense of gratefulness was often lost beneath the exhaustion of having it, constantly juggling so many aspects of her crazy life at once. Still, the way Adrien had put it... he had effectively summed up the best parts of what she did.

She wondered briefly if that was how Chat saw it; if that was why he always seemed to be having the time of his life when he was gallivanting over roofs beside her, cracking stupid jokes and indulging in silly antics...

"You're pretty good at pretending as well," she said out loud.

He blinked and came back to himself; he looked as if he had been lost in a private reverie.

"Thanks," he said, with a smile - though he didn't really deserve the compliment! "Maybe I should write some journal entries, too."

"I wouldn't recommend it," Marinette retorted, with cutting irony. "You might end up as Chloe's next story-time!"

"True..." He hastily hid his chagrined look. If something similar were to happen to him, he doubted he would survive the fall-out that would inevitably follow - for a start, Chloe would insist upon him becoming her new cosplay partner!

Marinette heaved a small sigh. Realizing that his answer probably hadn't comforted her at all, he hastily changed tact. "Maybe we could make it the theme of our class club after all?" he suggested, flashing her an inspired grin. " _Everyone_ could come up with entries, as a club activity - write your own adventure: The Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir!"

Marinette chuckled. She was starting to see it the way he did: as a silly writing exercise that had gotten out of hand. If she pretended she wasn't personally invested, it really wasn't anything to worry about. Lots of people were Ladybug fans, and had interesting ways of showing it. Just look at Chloe and Sabrina, wandering the corridors of The Grand Paris in costume, searching for the sinister villain Super-Mustache! The comparison instantly made her feel a lot better; despite all her fumbling at the start, at least she could claim never to have tied her own legs together with her yoyo string!

Adrien could see that his words had had an effect. "Feeling better now?" he asked her kindly. "It's really nothing to be ashamed of. Pretty much everyone in our class is a fan of super-heroes; I wouldn't be surprised if the vote _does_ decide on a Ladybug club."

"Ladybug and Chat Noir club," Marinette corrected automatically. Realizing he was looking askance at her, she smiled apologetically. "People tend to discount Chat Noir, but he's just as important as Ladybug. I'm as much a fan of him as I am of her."

"Y-you are...?" For some reason, Adrien's face suddenly felt hot. Sure, the news programs and papers often lauded Chat for his contributions to the city, alongside Ladybug; but to hear direct compliments for himself in person was... odd. He couldn't remember it ever happening before.

Marinette eyed him thoughtfully. She had read a lot of profiles on Adrien in various magazines - every one known to be in print, if she was honest with herself - but she hadn't learned that much about his interests before. Knowing that he admired her and her crime-fighting partner was very gratifying; at least she could be sure that he liked some aspect of her! And it was good to know that her silly Minou was a suitable role model for the city's male citizens - despite his terrible puns.

"I had no idea you were a Chat Noir fan as well," she said, with genuine interest.

"Of course," he said, with a wave of his hand; the gesture was vaguely feline. "Who wouldn't be? He's a purr-agon of paw-someness!"

Marinette dissolved into a fit of giggles - even though what he'd said most definitely _was not_ funny. She couldn't help it - it was so unexpected, so out-of-character for someone as cool as Adrien! It had been a really good impersonation, almost exactly like something Chat Noir would say! _He's so talented,_ she thought to herself, gazing dreamily at Adrien, who looked faintly chuffed by her reaction. She had a spark of inspiration herself.

"Really - you, a fan of Chat Noir!" she said, in a tone of mock-disbelief. "I didn't know you had even a _pounce_ of enthusiasm!"

He stared at her in silence for so long, she thought she had said something stupid - which, admittedly, she had. Then he suddenly tossed back his blonde head and roared with laughter.

"That was a good one!" he managed to gasp when he could speak again, holding his sides.

Marinette's cheeks were aching, and she felt slightly light-headed - she had gone from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other in less than fifteen minutes! She shouldn't be laughing at her own lame joke - especially since it was _so_ much like something Chat really would say - but Adrien's mirth had so delighted her, she had gotten caught up in his laughter as well.

"I did the cat proud?" she asked him.

"Definitely," he assured her, with one last chuckle. Then he glanced up at the clock on the wall; his smile lessened slightly. "But the teacher won't be proud of us if we're not in class very soon."

"Ah-!" Marinette looked up as well; the morning bell was going to sound in a matter of minutes. "We'd better get back quickly!"

"Are you sure you're alright?" Adrien asked, peering concernedly down at her as he got to his feet. He offered her a hand; she took it, a little shyly. She could feel her face reddening as he helped her up - not with tears or laughter this time. Somehow, she managed to stand steady, even though he kept a hold of her hand.

 _Not long ago, I'd be falling over myself if something like this happened,_ she thought to herself. _Have I gotten better at this? Or is it just impossible to be nervous around someone who tells bad jokes?_ She spared a thought for Chat Noir - how his light-weight banter made her feel better even as she groaned, taking the tension out of even the worst situations. She had to admit, his technique worked; the few minutes she had spent with Adrien were proof of that. Though she was pretty sure that Adrien on his own would have been enough of a cure!

"Yes," she said, in answer to his question; his consideration for her was touching. "I'm fine now. Thank you, Adrien. What you said... it was very comforting."

He smiled brightly, giving her hand a light squeeze before he finally let go of it. "No problem. What are friends for?"

They returned to class together. Marinette watched him walk ahead of her, smiling to herself. _A friend? I'd like him to be more than just a 'friend'... but still, this is good enough for now, isn't it?_ He opened the classroom door, then stepped aside for her. She beamed at him, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

 _Besides being my crush, I'm very lucky to have someone so wonderful as my friend..._

* * *

Even after the heart-to-heart she'd had with Adrien, Marinette was still dreading having to face her classmates again. Luckily, she had a distraction to help her, as they walked in on a strange tableau: Chloe and Alya were standing in the central aisle between desks, having a tug-o-war over her diary. They had each latched on to an end of it and were jerking it back and forth, both refusing to let go The rest of the students provided the struggle with spectators, most - if not all - of them calling out encouragement to their vice-president. Nino was hovering around his girlfriend like a hyper-active (and highly non-impartial) referee, giving the crowd running commentary on the match.

At the sound of the door opening and footsteps coming in, several people looked round, including Alya; when she caught sight of Marinette, she gave a shout. Taking a second to evaluate her quest for the diary against her need to support her best friend, she apparently chose the latter. She let go of the prize so suddenly, Chloe overbalanced and stumbled over a step, landing unceremoniously on her rear. Nino took the opportunity to crow: "And she's down!" Several people laughed unkindly at the spectacle.

Alya ran up to Marinette and threw her arms around her, hugging her tight. "I was so worried about you! As soon as I had wrestled your book off Miss Ignoble and thoroughly beaten her rotten ponytail to a pulp with it, I was going to come looking for you. It's good to see that somebody went to fetch you in my place!"

She gave Adrien an approving look, then darted a knowing glance at her friend. Marinette giggled and subtly swatted her on the arm; the gesture was a silent promise to fill her in sometime later, when it was just the two of them.

"Thanks for fighting for me, Alya! And... I'm sorry." A bit of Marinette's insecurities came back; she hung her head meekly, hoping Alya would understand - and believe yet another lie. "I didn't show you what I wrote because I thought it was silly. It wasn't a secret that I was keeping from you or anything..."

"Oh, don't worry about that!" Alya waved the apology away. "It all sounded so amazing - what I heard of it, though the telling left a lot to be desired! I thought it was really cleverly done. But why didn't you tell me that you're a fan of Ladybug as well? Super-heroes have been my thing for a while now, but I don't remember you ever mentioning before that you also like-"

"Eh, well..." Marinette mumbled, dipping yet again into her supply of falsehoods. "I-I guess I thought that running the Ladyblog is _your_ thing. I didn't want to detract from it, or risk stepping on your toes by-"

"No way, there is plenty of room in this fandom for everyone!" Alya declared, clasping her by the shoulders and giving her a firm squeeze to drive her point home. "I wouldn't propose it as a club theme otherwise! Seriously, can you give me an afternoon with that diary? It would be great material for the Ladyblog! I doubt that Ladybug has the time to write first-hand accounts of what she does for me to use, so your fan-fiction would be the next best thing! She might not approve, but if I ask for her permission very nicely-"

"Erm, I guess," Marinette muttered, carefully concealing any outward signs of alarm. _Oh boy,_ how was she going to get herself out of this one! "I don't want to offend Ladybug with my scribblings, b-but... maybe if she approved a few excerpts..."

"I'm sure she would! If you ever decide to give up fashion design - not that you ever should, you're totally awesome at it - you might want to consider a career in psychology. The way you wrote out what she was thinking and feeling seemed spot-on!"

Adrien chuckled at the pun; Marinette caught his eye and laughed as well. Tikki had been right: despite the extra lying and excuses she'd had to come up with, everything seemed to be okay.

Well, _almost_ everything. As she walked to her seat, Chloe, getting up from where she had fallen and making a showing of dusting off her spotless-white capris, glowered at her as she passed. Marinette stared back defiantly; it helped that Alya blatantly flashed a one-finger salute at her, while a gentle touch against her hand told her that Adrien was supporting her on the other side. Nino looked indignant, nodding his agreement with Alya's form of protest. Most of the other students were shooting Chloe dirty looks as well, some of them gazing at Marinette in sympathy.

She breathed out a sigh of relief: nobody seemed to suspect the real nature of her secret. At least she could be sure of one thing: even if anyone looked down on her for 'playing pretend' with her diary, no one was going to dislike her for it half as much as they already disliked Chloe!

Class was due to start in less than a minute. With the morning's excitement apparently over, the students took their seats, pulling pencil cases from bags and flipping notebooks open in readiness. As the clock ticked over to the hour and the school bell rang, they sat facing the doorway to the classroom, expecting their teacher to walk through it as usual.

Instead, the door emitted a resounding _bang_ as it slammed shut; the lock could be heard clicking into place. At almost the same instant, all the windows simultaneous slid closed.

* * *

 _Author's note: you thought that last one was a cliff-hanger? *This* is a cliff-hanger! ;P_

 _I honestly think this is how the Miraculous' powers work. How else could everyone ignore Marinette's distinctive hairstyle? As much as I like the idea that Tikki and Plagg both know and are playing dumb, I think their magic might make it impossible for people to notice the similarities between the super-heroes and their alter-egos, including their partners. I also believe that those powers stop Miraculous-holders from getting possessed by akuma - otherwise Marinette would have been at risk every time Chloe picked on her or she got embarrassed in front of Adrien; ditto for every time Adrien was disappointed by his father (Chat Noir's mind control was different). I don't know if this is an existing and/or prevalent theory - let me know if it is!_

 _We're really getting to the good stuff now, I'm trying to blast through it as quickly as I can! By the way, for those who haven't already noticed, I have another Miraculous story on the go, a series of one-shots called 'Lost and Found'. Both stories are neck-and-neck for updates - if you're waiting on this fic, chances are it's because I'm busy writing that one! (or, you know, having a life!)_

 _Thanks everyone for your reviews, stay tuned for the next installment! ~ W.J._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Adrien was the first to react; he raced to the door and tried the handle. When it wouldn't turn, he applied his shoulder to the door itself. He wasn't at all surprised that it had absolutely no effect.

Marinette was only a second behind him. She ran to one of the windows looking out onto the hallway and attempted to pull it across, but it wouldn't budge. She wasn't the only one who couldn't do it: Ivan was huffing and puffing as he wretched uselessly with all his considerable strength, Mylene watching him worriedly. While Max instructed them on the best application of leverage, Kim and Alix leaned their combined weight into it, only succeeding in knocking each other over.

Marinette gave up trying to open the window and looked through it instead. Adrien, abandoning any further attempts at the door, came over to peer through the pane beside hers. They could hear more doors slamming, windows clattering, shouts of surprise and protest coming from the other classrooms. It sounded as if every other student in the school had also been shut in.

Finding themselves standing side-by-side, Marinette and Adrien exchanged worried glances. Unbeknownst to the other, they were thinking near-identical thoughts: they had seen similar signs often enough to know that this probably heralded the presence of an akuma. Another panicked idea blazed through both their minds, blotting out even the threat of impending danger: _they were trapped inside the classroom with no means of slipping away to transform_.

The projector mounted in the ceiling suddenly flickered and came to life, giving them their first glimpse of the next akuma they would have to fight.

Marinette's first impression was that she looked like an evil Mary Poppins. The comparison didn't seem too far-fetched; she very much resembled a gothic version of an old-fashioned Victorian governess. Her hair was pulled back into a prim bun so severe, it looked like a slick black helmet atop her head. Her skin was the sickly hue of old parchment, with what looked like ink-blots shading each of her eyes. Her horn-rimmed glasses had pointed frames, which - Marinette and Adrien both noted, with grim resignation - resembled the butterfly-shaped visors Papillion used to communicate with his minions. They were attached to a fine silver chain that appeared to be made from a strand of tiny, linked paperclips. Her earrings were quite possibly re-purposed bookmarks: slips of paper with tassels dangling from their ends. She wore a stiff blazer and bell-shaped skirt that could have recently gone through a printing press, or fed into a type-writer; they were an inky shade of dark-violet, covered all over with pale letters, while the crisp white blouse beneath her jacket was patterned in the opposite colour-scheme. Everything about her was full of hard lines and sharp edges, as rigid as a stiffly-starched sheet of paper. The only hint of softness about her was in the drape of the indigo scarf at her throat.

"That looks like... Miss Tobin..."

Marinette whirled around. Her classmates all had their gaze riveted on the screen; most of them had been in this situation often enough to realize what was going on. It was Rose who had spoken, shock and recognition visible in the large blue eyes she had trained on the projection.

"Miss Tobin?" Marinette repeated. "You mean... the new assistant-librarian?"

She hastily remembered that Rose and Juleka often volunteered as library monitors during their lunch breaks. Marinette had met Miss Tobin before, when she had gone to the library to set up the meeting room for their club discussions. The young woman had been very helpful, bustling off to find paper and pens and chalk for the chalkboard. She had seemed very nice, perhaps even _too_ nice: one of those young, idealistic rookie-teachers who were easily taken advantage of by disrespectful kids.

Beside Rose, Juleka was slowly nodding her head. "It does seem to be her," she said as she squinted at the screen, taking in every detail with rapt attention. She looked faintly impressed that their mild-mannered teacher had become such a formidable-looking villain. Marinette might have shared the sentiment, if she didn't have to deal with it personally.

"Oh, no!" Rose spoke up again. This time, she sounded remorseful; she clapped her hands to her face in anguish. "This is partly my fault! I should have asked her what was wrong yesterday! I thought she looked upset, but I didn't want to intrude. Maybe if I'd talked to her then, this wouldn't be happening now! But she only passed me in the hallway, and she was gone so quick, I wasn't sure if she -"

"Could something have upset her?" Adrien asked, voicing the question that Marinette had been thinking herself.

Rose shrugged helplessly. "I don't _know_. I wasn't even sure if anything _was_ wrong; I only caught a glimpse of her as she rushed past. I assumed she just had to leave early, but she looked like she was really stressing out over something. I only noticed that she'd taken off her scarf, which was very unlike her."

Again, Juleka nodded in agreement. Seeing the other students looking at them in confusion, Rose explained: "She _always_ wears that scarf, every single school day - and probably on the weekends too, from what she told me. It's really, _really_ special to her. She graduated from Aix-Marseilles just last year, and this is her first job straight out of university. The scarf was a going-away present from her old school-friends, she always wears it to remind h-"

" _That_ ugly thing?" an all-too-familiar voice interrupted, with a disdainful sneer. "Talk about a lousy gift; it was obviously bought on a student budget. I've seen few scarves that are as revolting as _that_. The juice spilled on it was almost an improvement, even if it _was_ purple! She's lucky I didn't actually want to drink it - clumsy teachers who get in the way of students have no place in any school that _I_ attend. If her stupid scarf got stained, it was entirely her own fault."

Having said all this, Chloe smoothed her hair, apparently unaware that nearly everyone in the room was glaring at her. Nobody had any doubts about who had been the cause of this akuma - with a track-record like Chloe's, they really shouldn't be surprised anymore.

There was a faint crackle of static; it seemed to come from the speakers that were set in the wall at the front of the room. As they watched, the woman in the projection's thin lips parted in a cruel smile. She began to speak over the school's PA system.

"Good morning, children," she said, in a sickly-sweet voice which might have been kindly, if it hadn't been laced with malicious irony.

Her tone was extremely patronizing. Both Alix and Kim made scandalized noises, Max having to quickly shush them before they could start trying to argue with the a super-villain. Ivan frowned deeply, throwing a protective arm around Mylene; she eyed the akuma warily and gave a slight shiver, snuggling against his side. Juleka was patting Rose comfortingly on the arm, whispering a reminder that the woman on the screen wasn't actually their teacher. Having long-since twigged to what was going on, Alya had her ever-present phone in hand, and was filming the projection.

Marinette gave her best friend a single brief, exasperated glance. She was busy carefully scrutinising what she could see of the super-villain, paying particular attention to the purple scarf round her neck. She was looking for signs that it could be the possible source of the akuma - the knowledge would come in handy for later, when she managed to get out of here and transform. She didn't notice that beside her, Adrien was doing the exact same thing, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"I am Schoolmistress," the villain went on, introducing herself with a sly smirk. "I shall be overseeing all of your classes today. Your regular teachers are attending a _special_ staff development meeting, which will last into the foreseeable future. But don't worry, I'm sure you will find that my lessons are _very_ instructive. We shall start the day with minimal disruptions, by taking the student roll as usual. To begin with, I notice that two tardy students are regrettably absent: Ladybug and Chat Noir."

"Chat Noir and Ladybug," Adrien corrected her under his breath - since he wasn't able to do much else right now, this petty form of protest made him feel slightly better. "The roll should be in alphabetical order, and 'C' comes before 'L'."

He didn't appear to be talking to anyone besides himself. Only Marinette was close enough to hear what he said; she smiled to herself despite her preoccupations. It was brave of him to make light of things in the face of it. If she hadn't been so distracted, she might have realized how familiar the habit was - she knew someone else who always did exactly the same thing.

"Until they and their Miraculous arrive," Schoolmistress went on, "I'm afraid that all pupils must remain held in detention. This needn't be anything to fear: if you sit quietly and behave yourselves, none of you will really be in trouble. None, that is, except for one particularly naughty student: the mayor's daughter, Miss Chloe Bourgeoise. The student register informs me that she is in class-"

"How dare you single me out!" Chloe's outraged shriek made them all jump; she was already on her feet, glowering haughtily at the projection. "You have absolutely no right to persecute me like this! I'll have you know that my father provides more funding to this school than the rest of the board's patrons combined; if he were to pull out his support, this decrepit old place would crumple to dust in no time! I have half a mind to advise him that it's not worth his money. As soon as he hears about this, I'm sure he will-"

Several people groaned as Chloe went on with her rant. Marinette clapped a hand to her forehead, while Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Only Chloe would be idiotic enough to try to threaten an akuma with her father's influence. Besides, any case she tried to make was completely useless: the PA system only had speakers in the classrooms, not microphones, so Schoolmistress hadn't heard anything that she had just said - which was probably just as well. All she succeeded in doing was drowning out part of the villain's speech. Several people tried to shush her before she finally got the hint, grudgingly falling silent.

"-necessitates some form of discipline," Schoolmistress had just finished saying. "In light of that, the class in question will immediately be having a compulsory review session. You will be required to undertake an independant study of the texts that are already provided in your schoolroom."

The students exchanged uncertain glances. _That didn't sound so bad..._

Schoolmistress' self-satisfied leer dashed all their hopes. "Be sure to read carefully - but don't worry if you're unable to take it all in. I doubt any of you will be around long enough to be tested on it later!"

The screen abruptly blipped out and went blank. In the uneasy silence that followed, an ominous rumbling slowly started to fill the air. It seemed to be centred around the bookshelves at the back of the room; additional tremors radiated from the filing cabinet beside Ms Bustier's desk.

Marinette tensed and automatically clutched the strap of her purse, wishing that it was the string of her yoyo. Adrien squared his shoulders, hands clenched into empty fists that should have been holding a baton.

At first, they were almost fooled into thinking that it was a conventional earthquake: a whole row of books suddenly toppled off their shelves, thudding to the floor like hailstones. A moment later, however, it soon became clear that the books weren't _falling_ \- they were _flying_.

The students watched with horrified stares as each volume shook out its pages and took to the air, flapping their covers like the wings of over-large butterflies. Not only were they mobile, they were _fast_ \- they zipped around the room, flinging themselves at any student they came across, with no regard for the damage their considerable weight could do to bruisable skin and breakable bone. At almost the same time, the drawers of the filing cabinet burst open and released a cloud of papers that choked the air. Assorted permission slips, absence forms and test papers flitted every which way, darting about like vicious, sharp-edged birds.

Nathanael had to hastily scramble under his desk to avoid being dive-bombed by multiple encyclopaedias. Ivan shoved Mylene down just in time: a thick history book whizzed through the space where her head had been moments earlier. Alix was wrestling with a large thesaurus that seemed determined to snap closed on her head. Kim attempted to out-run an atlas, weaving between seats as it swooped him repeatedly. A trigonometry book brushed Alya's elbow, jolting her phone out of her grasp; Nino was able to snatch it up just in time, giving her a pointed look as he handed it back to her. She deliberated for a moment, then reluctantly tucked it into her bag. A second later, she abruptly leapt sideways, dragging her boyfriend with her; the same textbook just barely clipped him, knocking his hat askew.

Marinette had never before appreciated the simple pleasure of being able to stand upright. She had to keep bobbing on the spot, evading low-flying books that passed alarmingly close to her head. Adrien struck out at a dictionary, wincing as his knuckles scraped painfully against its rough canvas cover. Noticing that Marinette was ducking and cowering close by, he made his way to her, swiping at a French reader that had been hovering insistently over her. He shot her a smile that was meant to be reassuring, but was made with gritted teeth.

"We just need to hold out until Ladybug gets here," he muttered, as much to himself as to her. He grunted as a pop quiz grazed his shoulder, shredding the sleeve of his shirt.

Marinette automatically moved behind him to cover his back, grateful that it prevented her from having to look at him. Her stomach was one great, writhing knot of guilt. He was counting on her to turn up as Ladybug, and here she was, floundering uselessly beside him, all because she couldn't transform without everyone seeing her...

"M-maybe Chat Noir will get here soon," she murmured hopefully - having one of them on the scene would be better than none, and he might distract everyone long enough for her to find somewhere to transform. She didn't notice Adrien flinch, his face contorted by a shame-filled grimace not too different from her own.

The pop quiz seized his moment of distraction, arrowing towards him without any warning. He didn't see it coming, but Marinette caught the flicker of white out of the corner of her eye. With a startled cry, she grasped the first thing she could lay hands on - her satchel, which had been lying on her desk - and lunged between him and the paper, holding the bag up protectively.

She felt the impact as it hit her barricade; there was a loud _crunch_ , then a frantic fluttering as the paper dropped weakly to the ground. It quavered a few times on the floor, as if it were a giant insect in its death-throes. Not giving it a chance to resurrect, she squashed it with a firm, final stomp of her foot. Slowly lifting her ballet-flat off of it, she cautiously watched it for any signs of movement, but there were none; it lay perfectly still.

"Are you alright?" Adrien asked, peering concernedly down at her; she still had her satchel hoisted over her head.

"Y-yeah..." Somehow, she was. She hadn't really known what she was doing, much less that it would work.

"How did you _do_ that?" he wanted to know.

Marinette wasn't too sure herself. She examined her satchel carefully; it showed no outward signs of damage. She honestly didn't know why it had managed to deflect the paper's vicious onslaught. It wasn't anything special, certainly not one of Ladybug's weapons - just an ordinary book bag...

 _Book bag... wait a second..._

She opened the bag, peering warily inside. When nothing happened, she carefully slid her design-journal out of it. She held it gingerly, waiting a few moments, but it didn't move an inch. When she flipped through its pages, none of them attempted to break free and fly at her face. _Did she even have any schoolwork in here?_ She had a separate sketchbook for her elective class this semester; it was safely stowed away in the school's art studio. But if Schoolmistress' power was to manipulate books and papers... perhaps it only extended as far as things that were actually used for lessons...? Which meant-

"Non-school materials aren't affected!" she called out, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear her over the _swoosh_ of swooping papers. "Grab whatever books and magazines you have, as long as they aren't part of the curriculum! Nathanael, you have spare sketchbooks, don't you? Rose, I know you always carry a few sticker-books. Pass them around, make sure everyone has something to defend themselves with. We'll use whatever supplies we have to fight back, at least until help arrives!"

It took a few seconds for her words to sink in. Then, everyone rushed into action, as if they were suddenly galvanized.

Rose pulled sheets of stickers and scrap-booking papers from a pale-pink binder. She selected a sticker-book that wasn't too glittery and passed it to Ivan, who took it from her sheepishly. He eyed the floral patterns with mild interest, weighing it in his hands. A shadow fluttered near his shoulder; he swiftly turned and knocked a student roll out of the air, giving his flowery 'weapon' a delighted smile.

Marinette grinned when she saw Max set aside his beloved tablet and yank several thick gaming-guides from his bag. Catching her eye from across the room, he winked at her. She had to applaud his dedication: he must already be preparing for next year's tournament. He passed one of the guides to Juleka, who had procured a roll of tape somewhere. She afixed a few strips to the back of the book, then strapped it to her arm. It proved to be an effective shield; she used it to deflect a flock of hall-passes that had tried to ambush her.

Nathanael was tearing pages from his sketchbook, distributing them among his classmates. He helped Mylene arrange a sheet over her dreadlocks like a headscarf, affording her some protection. Alix wrapped a sheet around each of her hands like a pair gauntlets, boldly shaping up against a chemistry book that had been stalking her. Kim, not to be outdone, had brought the sports section of the newspaper to school with him; he stuffed scrunched-up pages beneath the shoulders of his jacket until it resembled a padded suit of armor. To complete the look, he drew his ink-stained fingers across his face, leaving dark streaks of war-paint on his cheeks. He promptly tackled a large worldwide-map that had been sneaking up behind Rose, wresting it away from her.

Adrien watched all this activity with an increasing sense of pride. On an average day, a surprise quiz or an extra sheet of homework was usually enough to make everybody whine; but here they were, with no means of rescue and overwhelming numbers against them, defiantly arming themselves against a surprise threat. They actually seemed to be holding their own: the ground was already heavily littered with torn papers. Several of their attackers were looked distinctly battered, dangling useless pages and tattered covers.

Even though he had been attending school for almost a year now, it still amazed Adrien how everyone could pull together in a crisis. When he had first started at the college, he'd had some romanticized notion that everyone in class instantly becoming close pals. He had quickly been cured of this idealism - the 'gum incident', closely followed by Stoneheart, had put a swift stop to that - but it was true that a certain unspoken solidarity existed between them all. Of course, it was by no means perfect. Alix was argumentative, Kim a constant tease; Ivan's surliness made him intimidating, while loners like Nathanael and Mylene were shy to the point of being nearly unapproachable - and that was before Chloe even came into consideration. Yet everyone suddenly became so supportive of each other in the event of an emergency. He had seen how everybody had cheered together when the city's heroes had stood up to the Bubbler; and he'd heard afterwards how they had all seamlessly sprung to their allotted tasks during Darkblade's invasion of city hall.

It was also nice to see their class-representatives in action. As he watched, Marinette's nimble fingers folded a page from her sketchbook into a protective paper hat; she passed it to Nino, who took it from her and replaced his regular cap with it. He gave her a brisk salute, then began swatting at a sheet of maths formulas with a charts-listing from his favourite music store. Behind him, Alya had pulled out her stash of superhero comics. In a gesture that couldn't have been more fitting, Issue #5 of 'Majestia' was used to swipe an incoming permission-slip out of the air. Marinette paused to high-five her friend, then turned her attention to an out-of-the-way cabinet near the back of the room. She carefully prodded its contents for signs of allies or enemies, pulling out a thick phone-directory that appeared to be safely motionless.

Adrien smiled to himself. She really was an ideal class-president; her call-to-arms had completely turned the situation around, rallying the class to take on what had hitherto been a one-sided onslaught. Not many people would be able to remain so calm and clear-headed under that sort of pressure.

Reassured about the safety of his schoolmates, he turned his thoughts toward the potential battle ahead. He knew that Chat Noir would have to enter the fray, as soon as he had a chance to slip away somewhere unobserved. In the meantime, he would just have to wait for the arrival of reinforcements. If they could thin out the number of their assailants, maybe it would be enough until Ladybug could get here. He wondered if word of the attack had gotten to her yet? He had no way of contacting her without transforming, and no clue whether the school's plight was yet known to the public. If Alya hadn't had a chance to post her video to the Ladyblog yet, perhaps one student or another had managed to send out an alert?

A near-miss with a student seating-plan roused him; he quickly realized that he ought to be helping out himself, not standing around speculating about his partner. He began searching through his things for something he could arm himself with. Since he had so little free time, he wasn't in the habit of bringing extra books or magazines to school. If only he still had his father's book on Miraculous, it would easily be heavy enough to make a sturdy weapon...

Marinette managed to find a pile of old Paris phone directories on a dusty shelf. She seized a stack of them, wondering if they could perhaps build a barricade out of them - it might be easier to defend than an open room. A few feet away from her, Adrien was frantically rifling through his bag, looking for something he could use as a weapon. _If only he still had that great heavy book on Miraculous,_ Marinette thought, dipping her head in shame. She had stolen the book from him, but for a good reason; Tikki had insisted it was important, and it had been a great aid to Master Fu...

As she watched, Adrien tossed his bag aside, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. Seconds later, he ducked just in time; a heavy calculus book had aimed itself directly at his head. Having over-shot its mark, it banked hastily and swerved in the air, coming around for a second attack.

Marinette threw the phone directory from the top of her pile at it. The textbook dodged, swerving off-course. Without stopping to think, she reached for her own bag, pulling out the latest issue of _La Mode_ magazine. She passed it to Adrien, who was standing with his hands up defensively, braced for another assault.

"Here, use this."

"Oh, thank y-" He stopped in the middle of taking it from her. Marinette looked down and immediately realized why: a large image of his face was emblazoned across the magazine's cover.

 _Whoops,_ she thought, blushing furiously. _Trust an akuma to make me forget the whole reason I bought that issue!_

"Um... n-nice photo?" she said, smiling awkwardly at him.

He grinned wryly back at her. "Thanks." He took the magazine and rolled it tightly, forming an improvised baton. "I hope it's good for something other than just looking nice."

The textbook had recovered; it steadied itself, then dove at his head again. Holding his makeshift weapon high, he swung it in a single smooth, practiced motion, striking the book with a satisfying 'thwack'. It took a direct hit to its spine; as its binding came apart, it dropped heavily to the floor.

"Whoa!" Marinette gasped. _That was so cool!_ She knew that Adrien was fairly athletic - according to his schedule, he took both fencing and karate classes several times a week, besides playing basketball, skateboarding, and rock-climbing in his spare time - but she had never seen him in action like this before! Come to think of it, he was usually pretty good in an akuma attack, getting people to safety and finding safe places to hide. He'd helped everyone look for cover when Chronogirl was out to get them, and had knocked Marinette out of the way when the Gamer had been about to blast her. But she'd had no idea he would be this good in an actual fight!

Hearing her comment, he looked around sheepishly at her. "It's all in the wrist, right?" he said modestly, hoping his action hadn't made him look too much like Chat Noir. The magazine wasn't nearly as good as his retractable staff, but at least it seemed to be effective for now.

"Those fencing lessons paid off," Marinette told him. She blinked the stars from her eyes with an effort - her pulse was racing, and not because she was scared!

 _Fwoosh!_

Something flashed past her, barely brushing one of her pigtails. A hall-pass had swooped her, one of its corners levelled dangerously at her.

"Marinette, get down!" Adrien shouted, raising his baton and charging forward in her defence. The page was closer to her than he was, and it moved fast! If only this baton could telescope-

Marinette didn't ponder what she would do. Her body acted before she even realized what she did. She calmly seized a phone book, flipping it open in the palm of her hand. As the page dove at her unprotected face, she raised it as a shield at the very last minute; unable to stop in time, it slammed into the open page. With a sharp flick, she snapped the directory shut, then turned it up-side down and shook it. The defeated slip of paper fell out, crumpled beyond recognition.

 _Huh._ _It wasn't her yoyo, but it still worked pretty well..._

"Not bad!" Glancing over her shoulder, she realized Adrien was watching her, a lopsided grin on his face. She smiled back, inwardly scolding herself for doing quite so well. She was acting too much like Ladybug - faltering a little would have been far more convincing!

"All in the wrist, right?" she quoted back at him. He smiled in agreement, then turned back to the task at hand; he raised the rolled magazine in an _en garde_ position, targeting a multiplication chart that was hovering menacingly over Nathanael.

Marinette armed her free hand with a second book, scanning the room for anyone who could use her help. She was feeling strangely elated. She normally only felt like this as Ladybug, perched on a rooftop with Chat Noir by her side. It wasn't just that Adrien had complimented her on her fighting prowess: the sight of everyone banding together, systematically taking down Schoolmistress' minions, made her feel slightly giddy with exhilaration. She normally relied on her powers to deal with situations like this, but to think that they were managing this well, with not a single costume in sight - if this wasn't 'miraculous', she didn't know what was!

Perhaps it would be alright. Maybe they would manage to hold their own long enough for Chat to get here; then she could slip away, and th-

A shrill scream echoed across the room. Turning to track the sound, she found that she could barely see Chloe for the cloud of papers that surrounded her. She was clutching something, using it to shield her head; Marinette realized, with an unpleasant jolt, that it was her diary. Sabrina was standing over her, swiping away with what looked like a catalogue from a handbag store, but there were too many for her to take on alone. Chloe whimpered again as the wall of white steadily closed in around her.

"Chloe, use the diary!" Marinette called, pitching her voice to carry over the sound of rustling paper. "Hit them with it! Fight back!"

Either Chloe didn't hear, or she was too scared to obey. She made a sound that was something like a strangled whine. "This shouldn't be happening!" she shrieked, managing to find a bit of her usual fire - though she aimed it at the wrong source. "If you _really_ were Ladybug, you would have saved us by now!"

Marinette froze, stunned. All of a sudden, her energy faded. As she watched, Rose and Juleka sprinted past her, shielding their heads with arms covered in stickers, as a flock of permission slips dive-bombed them. Nino and Alya were sheltered under a desk, throwing their last few comics at some threatening maths problems. Ivan had a large paper-cut across his cheek; he tore at a periodic table that had draped itself over Mylene.

 _Swish!_

Something sped past her face, almost grazing her cheek; Marinette glimpsed enough of it in that split-second to recognize it as a detention slip. Before it could make another pass, a rolled magazine knocked it out of the air. An orange sneaker stamped on it, crushing it mercilessly.

"Are you okay, Marinette?" Adrien asked, glancing concernedly at her. He had heard what Chloe had said, and he didn't like the effect it was having on her. "You were doing great! I know it's hard, but we need to take more of them out, there's too many to hold them all off until Ladybug gets here. I could use your help, so please stay focused! "

She _couldn't_ focus; not as she was. The phone books remained motionless by her sides, hanging from limp hands. Chloe's words rang repeatedly in her head. With every moment she stood here as Marinette, she was letting an akuma take over the school. She was putting her friends in danger, all for the sake of her own secret.

 _A secret that had been told to the entire class not fifteen minutes before now._

 _What was the point?_ she asked herself. With a sudden, startling clarity, she realized that _was_ no point, not anymore. Keeping this secret had only made her do things she hated - lying to everyone, sneaking around behind their backs, running herself ragged trying to maintain a double-life she didn't even want. All the effort she had put into it seemed so silly now. It was only a matter of time before someone remembered what Chloe had said - what Chloe had _read_ , words that she had written herself - and put the pieces together. Sooner or later, someone would notice that she was missing during an akuma attack; that she and Ladybug were never seen at the same time. She had just barely covered herself before - soon, it would become downright impossible.

 _What was the point in hiding it all, when everyone already knew?_

It only took her a few long, life-altering seconds to make her mind up. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to do. She knew there was no _real_ danger in it. Chloe's earlier monologue had proven that Schoolmistress couldn't hear or see what was going on in the classroom, which meant neither could Papillion. The only intrusion came from the eyes of her classmates.

 _If that was really all it was, why did it scare her so much?_

She glanced around. Adrien was still standing nearby, shaping up against an approaching exercise book. With him watching her back, she knew she would be safe for a minute. That was more time than she would need.

She carefully eased open her purse. Tikki's large black eyes stared back at her, full of concern. The look in them told Marinette that she had guessed what she was about to do. _Have other Ladybugs revealed their identities to people they knew?_ Marinette wondered to herself. _I'll have to ask her later on_.

Looking down at her kwami, she whispered: "I'm sorry, Tikki. I've got to..."

"Do what you have to do," the tiny voice murmured back. "Take care of things now, and try not to worry about what will come of it later." She tried to smile reassuringly like she always did; her expression wavered, then held. "I'll be with you through it all, Marinette. It'll be alright."

Marinette smiled, though her eyes suddenly felt teary. "Thank you, Tikki."

"Hmm?" Adrien half turned round, keeping one eye on an approaching atlas; he thought he had heard her say something. "Marinette, did you-"

He was cut off by another high-pitched scream. The papers had started circling Chloe like a tornado; crouched in the eye of the storm, she hugged the diary for comfort. Marinette frowned as the cyclone began to whirl faster - this was starting to look serious! _It was now or never..._ Summoning up every ounce of courage she had in reserve, she took a deep breath.

"Hey, Chloe!" she shouted.

At the sound of her name, the girl's head shot up. Everyone else also turned to look at Marinette.

She gave a tiny gulp, then set her shoulders in determination, blue eyes blazing. She wasn't sure if what she was about to do was the _right_ thing, but it was the _only_ decision she could make right now. She couldn't wait any longer for Chat Noir to show up. As class-president, it was her responsibility to look after everyone; as Ladybug, she was their only hope. And she was honestly tired of concealing this part of herself from everyone. It was time to show them what she was really made of - who she _really was_.

 _She just hoped they wouldn't be too shocked or angry with her... and that Alya would eventually forgive her..._

She raised her voice again, somehow managing to keep it steady. "You're right, Chloe! If I was Ladybug, I would save us - so that's what I'll do! Tikki, transform me!"

At her words, something shot out of her purse. Even Adrien, who was standing closest to her - and might have had the best idea of what it was - only registered it as a red blur. A moment later, she was engulfed in a brilliant, rosy glow. The light glimmered on the lenses of Alya's glasses, tinted Juleka's hair vivid mauve, made Chloe automatically half-reach for the designer sunglasses on her head before she froze mid-motion.

Everyone stared in amazement at what they were seeing.

Adrien stood with the magazine still raised above his head, barely breathing, barely sure whether his heart still beat in his chest. He gripped his makeshift baton so hard, his ring was digging into his finger.

The light dimmed and faded. When it cleared, Ladybug stood at the centre of the room, on the exact same spot where Marinette had been moments ago.

* * *

 _Author's note: I think I'm getting pretty good that this cliff-hanger thing! *evil grin* I've already written a fair chunk of the next chapter, so hopefully you won't have too long a wait during which to hate me!_

 _You have no idea how big a kick it is for me, coming from a family of librarians, to write a villain who is an evil librarian! I wanted to give her civilian form a cool name that references some kind of book or comic, like the Francoise-Dupont College does. Unfortunately, though I love comics, I don't read many bande-desinee (other than Tintin, which is Belgian, not French). The best I could come up with is the name Colleen Tobin, after Paul Tobin and Colleen Coover, creators of the wonderful 'Bandette' comics that I have been reading a lot of lately. Check them out, they're a lot of fun!_

 _I realize that Schoolmistress' powers are a bit similar to Yomiko Readman's in R.O.D. Sorry about that; I promise she won't be a carbon copy. I'll flesh out some of her other abilities in chapters to come._

 _I already know that you'll want the next chapter asap. I'll do my best; in the meantime, please don't pelt too many things at my head! ~ W.J._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Nobody spoke; it seemed the longest time before anyone so much as _moved_. Even the books and papers, suddenly met with little resistance, temporarily ceased their attack.

Ladybug glanced around, seeing nothing but blank stares on the familiar faces surrounding her. She swallowed hard, searching for words with which to break the silence, but her constricted throat and empty mind did nothing to help her.

After what seemed an eternity, a timid voice spoke up.

"Ladybug...?" Mylene asked, gazing at the heroine uncertainly. She could have sworn she had just seen... "Where did you-"

"Marinette...?"

That was Alya's voice, slow and slightly unsteady. Ladybug turned to her, meeting her gaze with an effort. Her best friend's mouth was hanging open, as were everyone's. Rose and Juleka were clinging to each other. Nathanael had covered his face with his sketchbook, peering at her from behind it with wide eyes. Kim's mouth was working, but no sound was coming out. Max's glasses had nearly slipped off his nose, but he didn't seem to notice. Adrien-

 _Adrien..._

She had often thought that he looked like a perfect Grecian statue, but now the resemblance was almost complete: he was unmoving, unspeaking, gazing at her with a slack expression that seemed almost horrified. Marinette's heart plummeted to the soles of her shoes. Just minutes ago, he had been so kind, comforting her, opening up about himself to make her feel better... and all she had done was repeatedly lie to his face...

Usually when she changed into Ladybug, she felt about ten feet tall. Right now, she was sure she barely cleared an inch.

" _WHAT-?!_ "

Chloe's incredulous squawk made everybody jump. She tore through the cloud of paper around her with a single swipe of her manicured hand, using reserves of strength that she hadn't had moments ago. "It can't be-! _You_ can't be-! That costume, it's not- she's _not_ \- _you're_ not-"

"It is you, Marinette... right?"

That was Alya again. She had taken a few cautious steps forward. Nino tried to pull her back, but she ignored him, not taking her eyes off the red-clad figure in front of her.

Ladybug smiled. It was a soft look, one the defender of Paris seldom wore - one better suited to a klutzy girl who tended to trip over her own feet, accidentally delete videos, drop mobile phones...

"I'm sorry, Alya," she said, the exact same way she had many times before, with the same earnest pleading for forgiveness.

It was so strikingly familiar - so distinctly _Marinette_ \- that Alya gasped, involuntarily taking a step back.

Marinette flinched. It _hurt_. All of it hurt: the look of confused betrayal on Alya's face, the blatant stares of the rest of the class, Chloe's muffled gasps of hysterics. She didn't dare look at Adrien...

She glanced around timidly; then her gaze suddenly sharpened, focusing on something over Alya's head.

There was a shrill thrum of unfurling cord. Ladybug's yoyo shot out in a precise arc, hitting a history book square in the centre of its cover. It flew backwards, hitting the wall with enough force to raise dust and make windows rattle. A few people shrieked, startled by how fast the heroine - _their classmate_ \- could move; even during her strike, she was already darting forward, placing herself between the main group of students and the threatening flock of literature.

"Get _down_!" she cried sharply, in a commanding tone that even Alya barely recognized - though to someone else, it was all too familiar...

Without pausing in her headlong charge, she leaped upward and flipped neatly in mid-air, performing a perfect split-kick that deflected two encyclopaedias that had been approaching Alix from either side.

"Wow...!" Alix gasped, watching the acrobatics going on above her with an enraptured gaze. Kim and Max gaped alongside her.

In the confusion, no one heard the metal grill over an air-vent in the wall softly banging closed.

* * *

Sitting in class, his concentration waning, Adrien had often day-dreamed that an akuma and would attack he would have to slip away to become Chat Noir at a moment's notice. In his imagination, he'd nip inside the air-conditioning vent to transform, emerging seconds later in costume, to the cheers of his grateful classmates. After the ensuing fight, just as he had heroically cornered his foe, Ladybug would swing in through the window; she would be actually impressed by her silly Minou, genuinely singing his praises, before taking her place beside him, ready to help him finish off-

He had never imagined that the scenario would actually become a reality. He'd been eying the vent hopefully all through Schoolmistress' first appearance, but with the constant barrage of papers, he hadn't had a chance to slip away - until now. Though he apparently knew exactly what he was doing, he was almost surprised to suddenly find himself in the confined space, a cold draught blowing on him and cobwebs tickling his face. He'd acted without really thinking.

He _couldn't_ think. His brain had stopped working. He was _sure_ that his eyes must have malfunctioned as well, because what he thought he saw made absolutely no sense. He could've sworn he'd just seen... that it was... that _she had been_...

"So, all this time, Ladybug really _was_ the girl who sits behind you in class," a dry voice drawled beside him.

He felt Plagg hover up to rest on his shoulder in the dark. "Weren't expecting that one, huh? Quite the surprise!" _Trust Tikki to pick a cute one,_ he added to himself; since the other kwami's name would mean nothing to Adrien, he didn't bother to say this out loud. "How does it feel to have had your beloved's eyes on your back every day for the past year, and not even known it? Huh? Um...kid? Adrien...?"

When he still got no response, Plagg actually felt a flash of concern. He floated up to tap his Miraculous-holder on the forehead, peering into his face. "Adrien? Er... earth to Adrien? Are you feeling-"

"I don't know what I feel," Adrien finally murmured in reply. His voice echoed strangely within the confines of the shaft; the distortion didn't hide how dazed he sounded. His eyes were riveted on a gap in the grill, through which he could just barely see a scarlet figure flashing back and forth. The sounds of tearing paper, the zip of a yoyo-string, and the odd battle-cry filtered through the screen.

 _Marinette... that voice... Ladybug's voice, it was..._

"Marinette... she's _Marinette_..." he whispered, speaking to himself. Saying it out loud didn't help him believe it at all. He _couldn't_ believe it, it _couldn't_ be true! But he had seen it with his own eyes, seen her kwami enter her earrings, seen ordinary Marinette transform into-

"Have you become a spectator now?" Plagg purred sardonically, somewhere near his right earlobe.

Adrien jumped, suddenly brought back to the situation at hand. What was he _doing_?! There was an akuma on the loose, Ladybug was out there - and whoever she was, she was fighting _alone_! She needed Chat Noir to help her, right _now_!

"We'd better transform, Plagg," he said. He was still more than a little stunned, but at least he was beginning to think again. Remembering what he ought to be doing. He and his Lady were a team - and right now, he was letting her down!

"Are we going to transform in here, or out there?" Plagg asked. He knew better than to request a bit of camembert first. Much as he liked to demand favours from his holder, he knew better than to ask for the impossible - he doubted the boy would know the pointy end of a wedge of brie right now! "Not that I mind the dark or the cramped space, but there's not much of an audience in here, not like-"

"We can't do _that_!" Adrien interrupted in an urgent hiss, suddenly sounding panicked. "Not after _that_! After what she just did, that's the _last_ thing she needs, on top of everything else!"

"So you'll let her expose her secret on her own?" Plagg asked, lazily riding an air-current just above his head. "How chivalrous of you!"

Adrien stopped short. The walls of the vent, already close, suddenly seemed to be suffocating him. Over the past year, he had gone to great lengths to keep his double-life a secret. And here he was, having just watched his friend - his _close_ friend, his _partner_ \- get her identity revealed to their entire class _twice in a row!_

Suddenly, it all made sense: clear, concise, embarrassingly-obvious sense. _Of course_ Marinette's journal entries, written in-character as Ladybug, had seemed so realistic - they really _were_ passages from Ladybug's diary! She had written about their transformations running out, his warnings to her that she was losing spots; she had even used his Lady's nickname for him! He was such a _failure_! This was his _partner_ , someone he felt more connected to than anyone else - not to mention the girl that he professed to _love_ \- and _he hadn't recognized her_ , despite having been so close to her all along, with proof of who she was practically slapping him in the face! How could he _not_ have realized?! Plagg's words about 'concealment magic' came floating back to him; but still, surely he should have figured it out, in the face of something as blatant as _that_? To think that she had been right there, sitting behind him all this time...

He felt like such a jerk. He had been so clueless just now, trying to comfort her, telling her how clever her 'creative-writing' was, how convincingly like the real Ladybug - yeah, right! How had she managed to keep a straight face while he said those things to her? Now he completely understood why she had run out of class, why she had been so freaked out by Chloe's actions. And then, just when she had recovered from the averted disaster, she had come back to class, only to contend with an akuma! And _then_ , prompted by Chloe's thoughtless outburst, for the sake of them all, she had completely undone all the effort she must have put into hiding her own identity, revealing herself without hesitation. She had summoned her kwami right there, in front of them all! He had heard her call it by name, had actually _seen_ it enter her earrings, had seen her don her costume on the spot, standing no more than a few feet away...

How did she _do_ that? His own in-built instinct to hide was so strong, the thought of stepping out there now and giving himself away made him feel physically ill. Or maybe that was shock. The same thought he had been repeating ceaselessly to himself ran through his mind again: it was _Marinette_ , all this time Ladybug was _Marinette_ beneath the mask... she was _Marinette_...

He shook his head, desperately trying to clear it. Now wasn't the time to completely go to pieces; he had delayed long enough as it was.

"We'll sort it out later," he firmly told his kwami.

Plagg eyed his charge worriedly. Part of him wanted to tell the boy to sit this one out. Though he proudly declared to himself that his kid was tough - a compliment he would never deliver to his face, it would only swell his fluffy head - this was perhaps more than even _he_ could handle right now. He was reluctant to let Chat Noir enter the fray with such a huge distraction on his mind. Black cats were supposed to bring bad luck - there was no need to tempt fate by going out there in this condition!

One look at Adrien's face was enough to tell him that making any such suggestion would be pointless. _Poor kid's got it bad,_ Plagg thought to himself, with an encroaching sense of dread. _This probably won't end well._ _I just hope he's not as rash as Tikki's girl..._

"Don't do anything stupid," he said out loud.

Adrien craned his head back in surprise, searching for a blacker cat-eared shape against the shadows. Remembering how well Plagg could see in the dark, he hastily smothered a grin. His kwami had spoken with hardly any of his usual flippancy. Plagg might act brash, but he was actually pretty reliable. After the huge paradigm-shift his world had just undergone, it was a relief to know that his little partner was actually looking out for him.

"I don't think even _my_ brand of stupidity could compete with what my Lady just did," he said, in a weak attempt at his usual humour.

Plagg rolled his eyes, not caring that his charge couldn't see it; the boy only registered it as a dim green flicker in the dark."It's fine if you don't want to sacrifice your own identity," he muttered, shamed by the conscientious side he was showing - _he was starting to sound like Miss Cookie-Breath herself!_ \- "but if you run out there now, you'll probably out yourself anyway. The students are all locked up in the classroom; sooner or later, they'll notice that Adrien isn't there."

Adrien bit his lip. Much as he hated to admit it, Plagg was right. He should've already considered that. He really wasn't thinking straight still. He would have to get it together if he was going to be any use to his Lady. She was all he could think about - and at this rate, it wouldn't do her any favours!

"I doubt anyone will notice; they're all too distracted by what just happened," he tried to reason.

"They're not the only ones," Plagg muttered darkly.

"Cut it out!" Adrien was starting to get exasperated, with himself as much as Plagg. He hadn't hesitated to leap into action when he had faced his first akuma - why was he putting the brakes on now? "Chat Noir may be a cat, but he's not a scaredy-cat! We're going out there, in costume, right now, no matter what! If she was willing to do this, we'll just have to back her up and hope for the best!"

His stuuborn declaration possibly did more for himself than it did to convince Plagg. He actually felt a bit better, hearing himself say it out loud: she was his lady, and there was no way he was abandoning her at a time like this, no matter the risk to himself and his identity!

He heard Plagg give a resigned sigh somewhere overhead, and smiled again. The little black kwami made an effort to seem blasé about everything, but he was really more loyal than he seemed. Though he wasn't willing to concede in words, that sigh was practically his unspoken permission.

Adrien raised his hand in the dark. He was suddenly overly-conscious of the ring on his finger; the familiar smoothness of the cool metal band against his clammy skin was almost comforting. It reminded him of past victories, made him feel more like himself again.

His _other_ self - the _him_ that his Lady needed right now.

"Plagg, transform me!"

* * *

At the centre of the ceiling, a stack of reading lists was swarming fitfully. The flitting papers wove complex patterns in the air, every so often darting dangerously close to the prone heads beneath them, like a menacing flock of sparrows. The students should have been watching them warily, preparing to take shelter, perhaps planning some sort of counter-attack; however, they were completely oblivious. Every set of eyes was riveted straight ahead, on the scarlet super-heroine in their midst.

Luckily for them, Ladybug was far more aware of her surroundings - painfully so. She was focusing on the whirling pages as much as possible, trying her best to ignore the crowd of motionless classmates around her. She gave a practiced toss of her hand; in one fell swoop, she lassoed the entire cloud of reading-lists, then grasped the ends of her yoyo cord in each hand and pulled sharply in opposite directions. The caught pages creased, slowly crinkled, then abruptly split in half, severed by the taunt string. Fragments of white confetti rained down on them all - and still, few of the students so much as blinked.

The books and worksheets apparently weren't being directly controlled by Schoolmistress, but they seemed to have some kind of consciousness of their own. Chastened by the brutal execution of their comrades, they beat a hasty retreat, hovering at the edges of the room as they waited for a better opening.

Marinette seized the opportunity for a breather, quickly taking stock of the situation. Her gaze immediately went to the windows, where she hoped to see a familiar black-clad figure lounging against the sill. To her great disappointment, no cat-eared silhouette was there to greet her.

She sighed to herself through clenched teeth. Much as she didn't want to admit it, she missed Chat Noir; she really could use his help here. Even if Schoolmistress' paper minions weren't much on their own, she was vastly outnumbered, and still had no means of escaping the classroom. Her partner's power of Cataclysm would really come in handy right now (pun unintended).

Besides that, she could use the distraction; she entertained the dim hope that with him here, her audience might have someone to stare at other than herself. Between the fluttering flakes of tattered paper, she caught the occasional glimpse of stupefied gazes boring into her. _Everyone must think this was such a joke!_ Here she was, muddled-up Marinette, the most hopeless athlete in the whole college, vaulting over desks and beating down murderous books while they all looked on. If she had been anyone other than herself, even _she_ would have found it laughable.

On the contrary, the constant scrutiny was making her want to cry.

Where _was_ Chat? Was he even aware that an akuma attack was happening? Surely one student or another must have tried to send a message the outside world by now. Perhaps Schoolmistress' influence went so far as blocking the college's wifi and phone systems? Marinette had to be partially thankful, since it meant that no one could broadcast her identity to the rest of the city - _yet_. Give Chloe her phone, enough bars, and an unharmed manicure, that was soon bound to change...

It was unlike Chat to leave her hanging for so long. Perhaps he was sitting in his own class at some school across town, completely oblivious to the fact that she needed him? Unless... surely it wasn't possible, or at least very unlikely, but... What if Chat Noir was a student here, and he was himself trapped in one of the other rooms? Could that be why he hadn't shown up? _What if he-_

She was distracted from this startling possibility by a collection of sonnets that had hurled itself at her head. She instinctively leaned back, ducking out of its path by a mere hair's breadth. It was all in a day's work to her by now - she barely batted an eyelid - but she heard startled gasps from her onlookers, even a few stifled shrieks. She smiled grimly to herself. At least they still somewhat cared about her...

She braced herself, ready for another onslaught, but it didn't come. Though there were several heavy tomes in the air around her, they seemed to be giving her a wide berth; they zipped straight past her, heading for the back of the room. As she watched in bewilderment, each volume quietly slipped into its allotted space on the shelves and remained there, standing innocuously still. To look at them, she could almost pretend that the last quarter-hour had been an unpleasant figment of her imagination.

Surely it wasn't a surrender...? No, it wasn't; after a moment's consideration, she saw through their tactic. They were only feigning retreat to take up a strategic formation, hoping to ambush her en mass, counting on her not being able to see which direction they would come from next.

 _Oh yeah? Well, they had vastly under-estimated their opponent..._

She set her stance, giving her yoyo a precursive twirl. It shot back into her hand with a satisfying _thwip_ , fitting snugly against her palm.

This was the difference between her normal self and her super-self; this was what almost a year of being Ladybug had taught her. Ordinary Marinette would have crouched and cowered at the prospect of battling an enemy - even if it _was_ just a flock of possessed books - but Ladybug never backed down from an impending fight. Whereas the idea of the slightest conflict would have made the her of a year ago panic, right now she wasn't even nervous - in fact, she was almost enjoying it. Her senses were thrumming, filling her with a sense of exhilaration that was by now very familiar. Every bit of stress, every trace of the morning's worry, every particle of her that was on the verge of freaking out - all of it was lending her strength, giving her motivation. She was ready to unleash a lot of pent-up frustrations on a willing target, and the books were about to ask for it.

She tensed slightly, yoyo raised, ready to strike. She didn't know it, but a determined smile was curving up her lips in a vicious leer; her eyes were narrowed, daring her unfortunate first victim to show itself.

She was so intent on the task at hand, she didn't notice anything - or anyone - else. Over to the side, Rose had her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her fingers and arms and even _ankles_ crossed, rapidly repeating a wish for her classmate not to get hurt over and over to herself. A few desks away from her, Max's fingers were a blur of frenzied motion. He subconsciously tapped out a series of blistering combo-attacks that he willed his partner to use, as if she were his player-character, and he could come up with a flawless victory for her through sheer thought-power alone. Across the aisle from him, one of Mylene's hands fiddled anxiously with the end of a dreadlock; the other clutched Ivan's arm in a vice-like grip. He himself was too distracted to notice the five half-moon marks her nails were pressing into his flesh.

At the opposite end of the schoolroom, the cover over an air-conditioning vent slowly eased open an inch; apparently thinking better of emerging just now, a hand tipped with claws hastily tugged it shut again. A pair of glinting green eyes, vividly bright against the darkness within, peered out through a gap in the grille, fixed upon the poised red figure on the other side of the room.

No one uttered a sound; the impending tension seemed to crackle audibly in the air. Then, with a sharp rustle and a slight scuffling of leather on wood, the first book shot off the shelf, the bend of its spine angled at Ladybug like the point of an arrow.

The heroine didn't hesitate; as soon as it took to the air, she shaped up like a pitcher, brought back her arm, and loosed her yoyo.

She scored a direct hit; the book was knocked straight back, hitting the paneling of the shelf with a loud thump. A split-second later, her second assailant got the same treatment; as did a third, then a fourth and a fifth. When three tomes attempted to rush her at once, she neatly lassoed the first, using it to knock the second one into the path of third, causing all of them to fall to the floor in a tangle of torn pages.

The books didn't slow down their onslaught - in fact, they sped up. The air was soon thick with an array of different bindings; smooth high-gloss covers, canvas cloth and ancient much-scuffed leather flew by in a constant stream. However fast they were, Ladybug somehow managed to be faster. Her throwing-arm was a red blur of motion, her yoyo a spinning meteor of brutal efficiency. The room rang with the constant clamour of books hitting the floor, the shelves - even the ceiling, many of them bursting apart after a single hit.

Watching from the safety of the air-duct, Adrien belatedly realized he had gasped and breathed in a mouthful of dust; he spluttered, hastily shutting his jaw. He hadn't seen Ladybug launch an attack this fast-paced, nor this unforgiving, since he had witnessed her rapid-fire capture of Papillion's messenger-moths at the Eiffel Tower a year ago. To think that she could still perform a stunt like that... and it had been _Marinette_ all along...

The last book was thrown backwards as if it had been launched out of a cannon; it hit the back-board hard enough to make the whole wall of shelves rock precariously. As if inspired by this, Ladybug aimed and hurled her yoyo once again. It struck the wall and ricocheted to hit the back of the shelf, knocking the whole thing forward; it teetered dangerously.

"Clear out!" she yelled, motioning to the students near the back to move forward with her left hand. Her right was held up in readiness, catching her weapon on its return; the sharp-eyed might have noticed that on its way back to her, the cord had precisely looped the flag-pole mounted upon the topmost shelf. As soon as Nathanael, Juleka and Rose had dashed clear, she leaned all her weight against the string and tugged, _hard_.

There was an alarming _creak_ as the shelves tipped, overbalanced, and then came toppling down; the impact it made with the floor shook the entire room, perhaps sent a shudder through the entire building itself. When the dust cleared and the last echoes of the resounding thud had died away, all was silent. There was no sign of any books; they all lay trapped beneath the fallen furniture, caged in by the very wood paneling that they usually resided in.

Ladybug breathed a satisfied sigh, casually pushing back a stray lock of hair that kept brushing against the edge of her mask. Though she seldom condoned wanton violence, taking it out on non-living objects had felt pretty damn good...

She had been smiling slightly to herself; it was only then that she remembered her present company, turning with a start at the sound of somebody clapping. Juleka, leaning against the far wall after having to vacate her seat, had broken into spontaneous applause. A rather breathless-looking Rose joined in; they both sheepishly trailed off when they realized no one else was doing it. Kim and Alix were still too stunned to even lift a hand, sitting in their respective seats with an uncharacteristic stillness. Nathaniel was huddled up under a desk with his art-journal over his head, peering cautiously out from under it as if it were a life-preserving helmet. Nino was gaping like a fish; his mouth kept opening and shutting, causing him to make faint gasping sounds that at least assured that he was still breathing. For once, Alya had not been filming the action; her empty hands were clenched convulsively in front of her, and for a seasoned akuma-attack attendee, she looked very pale.

Marinette returned her yoyo to her hip with fingers that fumbled, eyes trained on her feet in order to avoid making eye-contact with anyone. She really should try to say something this time. After a display like that, they all must be...

She searched for anything resembling a phrase - a _word_ even - that her mind could conjure. Despite the feat she had just pulled off, she was feeling remarkably incompetent. What on earth could she say, after what she'd just...

"Uh... I, er... unff-!"

Without warning, something slapped against the side of her face; it was closely followed by a similar impact at her side. She realized, seconds too late, that the books had been only one half of a two-pronged attack: the rear-guard, made up of the remaining loose papers, had succeeded in catching her unawares.

They were using a ploy similar to the one they had taken against Chloe; except that, perhaps knowing her to be a more troublesome opponent, they were being far less reticent about pushing their attack. An endless wall of white rapidly closed in on her, clouding her vision and pressing in against her. The pages plastered themselves to her face, clamped over her eyes and mouth, clung uncomfortably at her throat. She raised a groping hand and grasped a fistful of them, tearing them off her. She had no sooner managed it, when another barrage formed a thick sleeve on her wrist, fastening her arm to her side. New sheets instantly took the place of the ones she had just gotten rid of. The constant sound of rustling paper filled her ears; she thought she faintly heard screams or shouts over it, but that might have been her wishful thinking.

 _Was this how it would end?_ she wondered ruefully to herself. Was this how she would meet her defeat: gift-wrapped for Papillion by her own teacher, while her classmates looked on helplessly? As far as irony and embarrassment went, it wasn't exactly the best way to go...

A sudden gust of air swiped past her, followed by a dull _thwack_. A large swathe of pages suddenly sprung away from her, easing her restriction. She felt a faint prickle against her suit as a strong hand, nails overly long and razor-tipped, firmly grasped her cocoon and wrenched it away from her, reducing it to shreds in the process. The paper maelstrom cleared, leaving only a soft snow-fall of white fragments tumbling around her.

A large number of pages were still active, but they had backed off for the time being. Something seemed to have badly startled them. Ladybug glanced about for her rescuer in the sea of white, sure that she knew who it was, hoping it would be-

"I've heard of a pursuit _for_ knowledge, but never being pursued _by_ knowledge!" a familiar voice purred.

She turned and saw Chat Noir standing a few paces away from her, his baton still raised, a habitual half-smile upon his face.

* * *

 _Author's note: I probably could've added a bit more to this chapter, but I figured since everyone wanted an update as soon as possible, I might as well post it as it is! Can you believe it's already Chapter 7, and our heroes have neither defeated these pesky papers, nor gone after the real akuma yet? Damn me and my need to spend whole chapters explaining character motivations!_

 _Thanks everyone for your feedback, I'm glad you've been enjoying this story so far! In answer to my most oft-asked question: no, I don't know when the next update will be. I never know. I don't plan it for regular intervals, I just post whenever the chapter seems ready, and since I'm a fairly meticulous writer, it usually takes several hard edits before I feel it's ready to post. Sorry if that means each chapter takes a bit longer than people would like, but that's the way I roll - please stick with me anyway!_

 _Oh yeah, I almost forgot: I know that in the show, the classroom doesn't appear to have anything resembling an air-vent, but please pretend that it does! It has this weird little door with steps leading up to it to the right of Ms Bustier's desk, what's with that? I needed someplace where Adrien could slip away to transform unobserved, and the vent will again come into play *a lot* later on, so Francoise Dupont College now has air-conditioning! ~ W.J._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Marinette had never been so glad to hear a bad joke in her entire life.

After all the upheaval she had suffered in a single morning, it was an immense relief to come across a scenario she recognized, something that was _normal_. It belatedly struck her that this supposed 'normal' was actually what most people would call _odd_ \- how was fighting a flock of evilized paper alongside a boy in skin-tight cat-suit even _remotely_ normal? - but then, it practically _was_ the norm for her. She revelled in the familiarity of it.

She had been all-business during the book-attack; but at the familiar sight of her partner, her emotions threatened to get the better of her. Out of nowhere, it occurred to her just how much she appreciated Chat Noir, and how seldom she let it show. Much as she was always quick to defend him and tout how good he was as a hero (particularly when Chloe dissed him), she was also the first to roll her eyes at him, to check his ego with a swift put-down.

She only now realized how much she had taken him for granted. All of a sudden, their solid, dependable partnership seemed oddly precarious. She didn't yet know what the consequences of her reveal would be, didn't know how it might affect him, how it might _endanger_ him...

She noted, with devastating irony, that perhaps except for Alya, he was the one who had pushed hardest to learn her true identity, would have been the safest person to reveal herself to - Master Fu had tasked her with doing _just_ that - and yet, he was currently the only one in the room who had no idea who she was.

And she would keep it that way for as long as she possibly could. Of course she would have to tell him about it later, for his sake, much as she was dreading it - much as it pained her to admit how terribly she had jeopardized them _both_. But she just wasn't ready for that yet. It was bad enough that everyone else - her classmates, her best friend, her nemesis, her crush - were all watching her as if she had suddenly turned into a stranger. But to imagine that Chat might also look at her like that - if he should learn that the girl he admired was nothing more than a hapless, hopeless wonder beneath the mask...

She had to seriously resist the urge to run to him and bury her face in the shoulder of his suit. That would be giving away _far_ too much.

Going to pieces in her partner's arms was _not_ an option right now - and probably never _would_ be - so she did the only other thing she _could_ do. She pretended there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, save for the sentient papers flapping overhead.

She placed her hands on her hips, giving him a disapproving smirk. "You're late for class, Chaton," she said, putting every ounce of sass she had into her words.

* * *

For the first time in his life, Adrien was having great difficulty looking at the one person he adored more than anyone else.

He was painfully aware that he now knew who she was, but she didn't know that he knew - and he had _no idea what to do about it_. He couldn't let on that he knew, not without revealing that he was someone in her class - and she _definitely_ didn't need that kind of shock on top of everything else that had just happened to her!

He was thankful that the time he'd spent watching her take down the bookshelves single-handedly had furnished him with one of his customary quips. He delivered it as he freed her from her paper prison, standing a little away from her, waiting to see what she did. Letting her take the lead, as always.

Just like always, she eyed him with affectionate disdain. "You're late for class, Chaton," she said, with that same glint in her eye that always made him catch his breath.

He caught his breath now. He'd been waiting for her to set the tone, and she just had - acting as if absolutely nothing was wrong. As if a dozen high-schoolers weren't now privy to her greatest secret. As if their entire class weren't now eye-balling her like some strange specimen that had grown up in their midst. He risked giving himself away as one of them if he didn't reply to her in the next second or so.

 _How on earth can she be so strong?_ he wondered to himself, hastily floundering about for a suitable rejoinder. The answer came to him almost before he had finished the thought: _of course she was strong. She was Ladybug._

"Forgive me, my Lady, I overslept," he said, in a sheepish tone that didn't have to try to be genuine; he knew he had been playing truant for too long, even under the circumstances. "I've done my homework, though. This akuma is called Schoolmistress, correct?"

"That's right, and she'll put us on permanent detention if we don't do our work fast," Ladybug shot back without skipping a beat. She snatched up her yoyo as she spoke, giving him a devious grin he knew well, though it suddenly seemed strangely new to him. "Feel like having a quick study-session?" she asked, in a sweet tone that somehow accentuated the menace of her coiled weapon.

He brandished his staff, smiling grimly back at her. "I'm ready to hit the books."

They instantly took up defensive positions, standing back to back, alert and ready to strike at the slightest sign of a renewed attack. It was their accustomed procedure; but today in particular, it came as a relief. It saved them both from having to look each other in the eye while they traded lies, countless unsaid things hidden behind their false smiles.

Only one of them was aware that their dishonesty went both ways.

The papers were gradually growing bolder again. They fluttered in agitation, amassing their numbers, jostling for best positions over their prey. Then, in a sudden rush, they swooped.

Moving as one, but in opposite directions, Ladybug and Chat Noir sprang into action.

* * *

Ladybug swung her yoyo in a wide arc, tearing gashes through several pages that happened to come within range. She automatically aimed at any patch of white she glimpsed out of the corner of her eye, sending her weapon out again with a supple flick of her wrist. Flakes of paper rained down, filling the air with a steady stream of colourless confetti. She was thankful for the motion she was putting her body through; it prevented her mind from having to think too much.

It was just as well her instincts took over in place of thought. A stack of papers that had rolled themselves into tight points suddenly darted her way, lancing at her like improvised javelins.

With her yoyo still entangled in a timetable, she had to flip and twist in midair, evading them just enough to let them whiz by her harmlessly. Parallel to the floor and performing a tight barrel-roll, she put down her free hand to gain traction with the floor, ready to push herself upright again. Her other hand was already working the cord of her yoyo, in case the projectiles that had missed her decided to reverse their attack.

That was the pose she was in when she glanced to her right and found herself face-to-face with Mylene and Ivan. They were sheltered under a desk with their arms wrapped round each other, but they seemed to have somehow forgotten the other's presence. They were both staring straight into her face with unblinking eyes, their mouths a perfect pair of o's.

Marinette held their gaze for less than a second; then she was spinning away from them, levering herself back onto her feet, cart-wheeling away so that any papers aimed at her would be led a safe distance from any bystanders.

She grimaced to herself. Those papers had missed her by centimetres, which to her battle-hardened senses was practically a mile; yet she was feeling more than a little tender. Whoever had said that thing about 'sticks and stones' had got it wrong: it was _looks_ that could hurt you...

She glanced over her shoulder, trying to track the path the paper arrows had taken. She was just in time to see Chat Noir swipe them off-course with a blistering swing of his baton; they veered sharply, burying themselves in the wall, embedded far too deeply to ever work themselves free. He gave her a quick salute, then turned and dashed across the room, to where the barrage of papers was at its thickest. She replied with a tight smile, zeroing in on a stack of geometry tests that had just started stalking her.

Despite the crushing weight that still seemed to be bearing down on her, she felt just a little bit lighter. At least she had Chat Noir with her now. Thank goodness he hadn't discovered her secret like everyone else had; she knew she could still count on him to be by her side.

* * *

Adrien defended, dodged and counter-attacked without any real awareness of what he was doing. He hoped that the force that made him Chat Noir - Plagg, his Miraculous, the powers of bad luck, whatever - was paying more attention to the fight than _he_ was. His mind was preoccupied beyond all measure; it seemed to be processing a million things at once.

Time ceased to matter as he simultaneously re-fought several past akuma-battles at once, countless minor details leaping out at him in stark relief. It was as if Chronogirl was gallivanting around in his head, haphazardly leading him from one point in his shared history with Ladybug to another. All the evidence of Marinette's involvement, unnoticed at the time, was replaying itself in his mind.

 _That time she said she had a secret mission, leaving him to deal with the Evilstrator on his own - she had been there all along, as Marinette, orchestrating the 'date' to draw the akuma out! How she must have laughed when Chat Noir turned up on her doorstep, eager to impress his 'princess'. And how useful she had been when they were trapped on the sabotaged boat, telling him exactly how to free them both before it sank. He had figured at the time that shy, dithering Marinette was just the kind of person who rose to the challenge under pressure. If only he had known how very true that was..._

 _Did Ladybug lend some of her agility and grace to her clumsy counterpart? Or did Marinette just pretend to trip all the time, to avoid suspicion? He had been almost astounded when his classmate, set upon by Chronogirl, had managed to dodge the super-villain's onslaught and thrown the banner over her head, buying herself enough time to escape. It must have allowed her to transform as well, for Ladybug had turned up soon after. He himself had been late because he had paused, waiting to see if his classmate needed his help before he donned his costume. He had assumed that she had fled and hidden somewhere; he never would have guessed that she had reappeared moments later, yoyo in hand..._

 _It also explained how Marinette had managed to dodge the Gamer's attacks long enough for him to slip away and transform. When she had called out to Chat Noir from her shelter behind a row of cars, he had at first mistaken the voice for Ladybug's; now he knew why..._

 _That meant that when they had faced Lady Wifi, she had fought against - and almost been de-masked by - her own best friend! And Kung Food had been her uncle! If she had been upset by the fact that two people so close to her had been akuma-tized, she hadn't shown it..._

 _Well, he'd certainly been aware that Ladybug was less-than-fond of Chloe, and outright hated Lila. He really couldn't blame her; watching Lila swan around school, telling lie after lie about being best buddies with her, must have been infuriating. And Chloe was- well, Chloe. It was staggering to realize how many times the mayor's daughter owed her life to the girl she had mercilessly bullied for years, not to mention that the heroine she idolized had been her own worst enemy all along... it made his mind boggle..._

 _And yet, so many things suddenly made sense: Marinette's poor attendance record, why she often seemed tired in class. She must have made just as many excuses to slip away and transform as he had, with the added pressure of having parents who actually kept tabs on her. That was why Ladybug so often turned up at almost the exact same time he did! He had often wondered at her punctuality, musing that his Lady might have been any one of countless unknown Parisiennes who had been standing close by moments before an akuma attack. Except she hadn't been 'unknown' at all - she had been the girl sitting behind him all this time! No wonder she was able to respond just as quickly as him - she had been on the spot when Horrificator had slimed the school, and was already inside the building when Kung Food had sealed it in caramel. Just how many times must they have transformed mere metres away from one another?_

 _More importantly, how many times had he_ flirted with the girl who always sat behind him in class?! _All those times he'd been daydreaming about her during school, pining after her and inventing new pick-up lines to ply her with next time he saw her, all the while not knowing - foolishly unaware! - that she was actually..._ _that she was as close as-_

Something flew past his cheek; he felt the sting of a shallow paper-cut, giving an involuntary cry of surprise. His assailant circled back, and he saw that it was a physics paper. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

 _To think you were my favourite subject,_ he thought as he viciously swiped the page out of the air, pinioning it to the ground before grinding it to pieces with the butt-end of his staff.

He had been studiously avoiding watching his partner throughout the fight. Seeing her take down a whole bookcase of murderous literature on her own had been enough to rattle his nerves. _Ladybug_ taking down an enemy ten times her size was one thing, but to think that _Marinette_ was doing it-

He chanced a glimpse across the room, and his blood turned cold. Ladybug - _Marinette_ \- was turning and contorting several feet above the ground, just barely avoiding several vicious paper spikes that shredded the air around her.

A sudden rage seemed to surge through him like an electric shock. He felt the heat of it burn through every fibre of his being, fuelled by a blind, desperate panic. He raced forward, not caring that he stepped directly into the path of the projectiles, bringing his staff down in a brutal swipe that made the air shriek around him. Even as he impetuously lashed out, he managed to get his timing just right; he struck them all cleanly with a single hit. The arrows careened sharply off to his left, sinking into the wall with a sound like bullets hitting plaster. Their protruding tips struggled weakly, but they were unable to free themselves.

Giving one last angry huff in their direction, he turned to see Ladybug watching him, a faintly-approving smile upon her lips. He tensed under her gaze, feeling as if he had been caught red-handed, even though he had done nothing really untoward. There was no way she could know what kind of thoughts he was having - he barely understood them himself.

He gave her a quick salute, then dashed into the thick of the fight, trying to shake off the faint tremor he could feel travelling down both his arms. His heart was beating far too loud and far too fast. His mind was not nearly ready to accept the fact that sweet, spunky Marinette had _ridden a full-sized dragon and been knocked off a car flying miles above Paris_ _and thrown herself into the mouth of a tyrannosaurus rex!_ He wished he hadn't been so intent upon knowing his Lady's identity in the past; now that he knew, he wasn't sure his nerves could take it.

He remembered the girl who had clung to him as he carried her out of the Gamer's range - a girl who hadn't screamed even when he leapt five storeys with her, who didn't half-throttle him with a terrified choke-hold on his slippery suit. A girl who held onto him just tight enough and not a bit more, making herself as small a burden as possible, letting him focus on leap-frogging parked cars until he could safely deposit her atop the Grand Paris.

He felt as if he'd never really known that girl at all. As if she had never actually existed.

He still couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that she had been fighting by his side for a year now, had become his cherished ally and closest friend, had snared his heart as surely as if she had looped it with her yoyo-string - and he _hadn't recognized her out of costume_ , despite seeing her almost every single day. He had thought he _knew_ her, knew her better than just about anyone else in his life, almost as well as he knew _himself_. For that matter, he thought he was finally getting to know _Marinette_ as well: spending more time with her, learning about her interests, meeting her family. He had been getting to know these two girls, only to suddenly find that they were the same person, and neither of them were who he thought they were at all. He felt - well, not like he had known only a lie, since they had _agreed_ not to reveal their true selves to each other, and he could hardly blame her for being just as dishonest as _he_ had been - but like... he had been deprived of a truth, too blind to see what was in front of him all along. He had never really _known_ her, not _either_ of her...

He suddenly recalled what had happened when he had reached the roof of the hotel with her and set her down, just about to leap back into the Gamer's sights. She had called him back, with words that had momentarily thrown him:

 _"Wait, Chat Noir, my friend Adrien is still down there!"_

He couldn't help but smile to himself as he swatted a low-flying spelling list.

 _That_ he recognized. _That_ was the girl who had used nothing but a whirling yoyo to deflect a burst of dragon-fire that had been about to incinerate him. _That_ was the same girl who, mere minutes ago, had used her sketchbook as a shield to block a paper slip that had been coming at _him_.

Almost everything he knew about her might have been turned on its head, but some things certainly hadn't changed... _and they were the best things about her._

* * *

They had been fighting for several minutes, each countering the cloud of paper in their own way - but they weren't getting anywhere fast.

The pages still seemed to be in endless supply. Knocking them out in small batches was taking them far too long. All this while, Schoolmistress had been granted free reign of the outside corridors. At this very moment, she could be doing untold damage to other parts of the school - or tormenting other students and teachers - while they were stalled here, unable to get away.

"Regroup!" Ladybug called out, freeing her yoyo from the remnants of a seating plan.

At her terse shout, Chat Noir half-turned towards her. He extended his baton, pinning a stack of permission-slips against the wall; he retracted it once he saw that the impact had reduced them to tatters. Satisfied with this last score against the enemy, he sped back to his partner's side, the pair once again circling ground cautiously. The papers hurriedly surrounded them, making it clear that they had no intention of calling off their assault. They meant to make the pair fight their way out - a chore that would cost them yet more precious time.

"There's still too many of them," Ladybug murmured over her shoulder, knowing full-well that her words would easily carry to her ally's sensitive ears. "We'll be here for ages if we keep trying to defeat a few at a time. We need to take them all out in one hit!"

Chat Noir glanced back at her, pulling a face. "I don't think I can reach all of them at once with Cataclysm. Perhaps you should use your Lucky Charm? It might give you a paper-shredder."

He sounded less-than-enthused, and she shared his reluctance. This wasn't even the proper akuma, just a bunch of mindless lackeys. If she used her Lucky Charm now, she would have to recharge before they could go after Schoolmistress, wasting yet more time. And there was the added issue of having her transformation run out while she was still trapped and in full-view of her classmates... _not that it was really a concern any more..._

Still, she would rather save it as a last resort. She glanced around, looking for some sort of inspiration. She hadn't activated her 'Lucky Vision', but she remained hopeful; perhaps, if the right thing caught her eye, something might occur to her.

"If only we were in one of the science labs," Chat Noir said behind her, twirling his staff as a warning to a flock of hall-passes that were getting a little too close. "We could improvise a flame-thrower out of a bunsen-"

Ladybug winced. "You and your destructive tendencies, Chat Noir - that would be far too dangerous!" The very idea of flaming paper drifting about her classmates' ears made her break out in a cold sweat! "Still," she admitted, "it _is_ a shame this isn't a lab; they have sinks down there, we could've..." She trailed off. No point wishing for something they didn't have; not unless she wanted to use up her Lucky Charm.

Chat Noir groaned. "Water, water nowhere, and not much time to think," he muttered, very roughly paraphrasing a poem that Ms Bustier had covered in class last semester.

Ladybug huffed, blowing her bangs out of her eyes in frustration. She shared his sentiment, if not his exact words (that had actually been almost funny; she even recognized the poem he'd parodied). She could try asking her classmates if they had any bottled water in their schoolbags, but given the way they had been behaving like a gallery of zombies ever since her reveal, she doubted she would get anything from them...

As if on cue, Rose's fearful face peered round the corner of a bench. A flurry of thoughts passed through Ladybug's mind at the sight of her, none of them nearly substantial enough to be called proper ideas. When she thought of Rose, she associated her with helpfulness: she was always offering to help out the student council or the teachers somehow, gathering supplies, helping with school chores, managing snacks...

 _Snacks..._

In a few quick bounds, she raced to Rose's side. The girl squeaked and shrank away, gazing up at her with startled eyes.

Marinette cursed inwardly, forcing herself to back off a bit. She was running on a combination of adrenaline and purpose - both of which made Ladybug feel suitably intimidating against an akuma, but lent her very little advantage right now. She knelt down at Rose's level, making herself as non-threatening as possible. She wasn't exactly the tallest person in their class - nobody could nearly measure up to Ivan - but Ladybug had a certain stature, and she wanted to shed it for a few seconds at least. She needed to be more like _Marinette_ for a moment.

"Excuse me," she said, in her cheeriest, most polite conversing-with-a-stranger tone of voice; the one she used on customers when she was minding the shop for her parents. "You're Rose, aren't you?" she went on, feigning ignorance. A stealthy look behind her told her that Chat Noir wasn't far away, and was slightly inclined towards them; he might be able to hear her with his enhanced cat-senses. "Did you bring any juice to school with you?"

"Huh?" Rose blurted, blinking at her in confusion. Finding herself suddenly confronted by a super-heroine who happened to be her classmate, combined with the seeming irrelevance of the question, she was completely stumped. Crouched behind her, Juleka was eying Ladybug with dubious interest; she obviously suspected that recent events had caused her to mentally snap.

"Juice," Ladybug repeated, trying her best to be patient. "You help out your class-president - that girl, Marinette - by taking care of refreshments for all your after-school meetings, don't you? Did you bring some juice to have at the club discussion this afternoon?"

Rose finally seemed to catch on, though she remained mystified. "Um, y-yeah... You know that we- er, well, that is-" Apparently, she wasn't a natural liar; she was trying hard, carefully weighing her words, eyes darting between the two heroes all the while. "W-we're deciding our club theme today, and y- I mean, _Marinette_ asked me to bring... uh, i-it's kind of a special occasion, so I brought some sparkling apple-"

"Perfect!" Ladybug exclaimed, seizing upon these last few words. She noticed Rose's bag stowed beneath the desk just inches away from her. The neck of a bottle poked out of it; bubbles fizzed gently against the inside of the glass. "I'm afraid I need to borrow it. If all goes according to plan, you _should_ get it back later."

She snatched up the bottle and strode briskly away with it, trying to soothe her own frazzled nerves. Talking to her schoolmate as if she didn't know her, counting on Rose to buy into the charade... she had been lucky the other girl had managed to play along, but the strain of having to play pretend had been more than she wanted to take on right now, on top of everything else...

As she came back towards him, Chat Noir tried to appear nonchalant. He had heard every word of Marinette's exchange with Rose, heard how hard she had been trying to keep up the façade of normalcy. She was doing it for his sake, assuming he knew nothing about what had happened, trying to conceal it from him. The impassive face she wore as she returned to his side seemed to stab him right in the conscience.

He felt doubly guilty as she flashed him a pleased smiling, brandishing the bottle for him to see. "This is just what we need!" she declared brightly.

"You think the papers might back off if we offer them a drink?" he suggested, forcing himself to keep his tone light. He knew how Lucky Charm worked by now; her powers hadn't given her this item, but she obviously had plans for it.

"Perhaps," she agreed, with a sly smile, "but first, we should get them to work up a thirst. I need you to herd them around, spread them out so that they overlap as little as possible."

"Is it me or the papers that are supposed to be working up a thirst?" he asked in an aggrieved tone, already raising his baton to carry out her instructions.

She didn't reply; she was taking the aisle-stairs two at a time, seeking a suitable vantage-point. As she went, she shook the bottle vigorously; apparently unsatisfied with the result, she hooked it to the string of her yoyo and swung it in a _very_ fast series of rotations. When she was done, the bottle jolted ominously in her grasp.

Chat Noir swiped above his head with his staff, feeling like he should be whacking at a piñata. It was difficult to move the papers around; they tended to shift out of position again on their own. At last, he seemed to have them fairly well spread-out.

"Alright?" he asked, turning to his partner. She was standing halfway up the stairs, the juice-bottle propped under her arm like the butt-end of a rifle; he was beginning to get a pretty good idea of what she intended to do.

"Perfect!" she called back to him, raising the bottle so that its neck was aimed squarely at the centre of his paper-arrangement. "Now clear out, unless you want a shower!"

He had suspected as much. As soon as he scampered out of the way, she looped her yoyo-string round the neck of the bottle and yanked off the cap in one swift motion. The sparkling liquid burst out like a geyser, instantly saturating the papers it hit. She guided the jet from side to side, thoroughly soaking the entire wall of pages he had assembled for her. They flailed weakly, tumbling over each other in vain attempts to escape. They were soon completely sodden, and already starting to disintegrate; not only that, but the juice made them sticky, causing them to clump together wherever they collided.

Adrien found himself watching not the faltering papers overhead, but the figure in red who had just weaponized a bottle of apple juice - _was it a juice-cannon? a juice-zooka? that last one wasn't too bad_ \- against them. He peered at her from a dry spot that was safely out of her range, gazing at the expression of roguish triumph upon her face. Though it inspired no less admiration in him, it was now met with an equal amount of confusion.

 _Just how were she and Marinette the same person?_ he asked himself, not for the first time during the past half-hour. How could this person in front of him possibly be _Marinette_ , who had once wandered into the boy's room by accident while he was in there, then walked straight into the closed door in her panic to get back out? Who had tripped over her own feet so many times during the school year, almost every spot on the classroom floor must have a slight indentation from her face by now? Who had once squeaked - not yelped, not squealed, but actually _squeaked_ \- at him, when he all he had done was say good-morning to her? This couldn't _possibly_ be the same girl; she and Ladybug were like complete polar opposites! If he hadn't already known who she was, he never would've suspected...

He studied her face intently. Behind the mask, blue eyes blazed with intense concentration; the very tip of her tongue poked out between her lips. Okay, he _might_ have seen her pull that face before, when she was sketching out a particularly good dress design between classes. He tried to imagine that he was seeing that victorious leer from the side, as if he were seated next to her. _Maybe_ he had seen Marinette look like that before, as she tore into a levelled-up opponent while playing Ultimate Mega Strike III...

He focused on her again, just in time to see her toss aside the empty bottle. She caught his eye; he gave her a nod before going into action, this time swinging his baton as if he really _did_ have a piñata dangling in front of him. With each swipe, wet paper burst apart and pattered to the ground, forming a sticky white sludge underfoot. Ladybug picked off a few soggy assailants that managed to drift up the room towards her, eying them appraisingly.

"Now Chat, line them up for me!"

"As you command, my Lady!" he replied flippantly, but obediently did as he was told. _Hmm, so all this time Marinette had been the one ordering him around?_ He wasn't sure what he thought about that yet... among many other things...

The paper was far easier to manoeuvre now that it was soaked. It had lost most of its aerodynamics, meekly letting him prod it where he wanted it. Soon, the pages were arranged in a rough line, facing Ladybug.

"Let it rip, Ladybug!" he said, saluting her.

She gave him a nod of acknowledgement, then shaped up and threw her yoyo. It sank directly through centre of the first sheet, and then every sheet behind it, stringing them all together. The weighted end lodged in the wall just above the blackboard; she pulled back a bit, keeping the cord taunt.

"Time to clear up this paper-trail, Chat Noir!"

"With pleasure, my Lady!"

He didn't have to do much. He simply dashed from one end of the room to the other with his arms extended, running his claws through the queue of skewered sheets above him. He turned and looked back to find that every scrap of paper had been effectively torn to minuscule shreds. Wet paper-pulp flew in all directions, leaving the string clean and empty; Ladybug yanked her yoyo free from the wall, catching it neatly in hand.

The classroom now looked like it had been doused in heavy rain after a fall of snow. Sodden paper-sludge coated everything, forming a white crust on desktops and backs of chairs, clinging to the blackboard in thick wet wads. Most of the students had taken shelter under their desks, but some of them sported clumps of pulp on their shoulders or in their hair.

Ladybug glanced around sheepishly. "Um, sorry for the mess. I might be able to clean it up later, so, uh, just leave it..." She trailed off, noticing that no one was paying any attention to her words. Even after all the staring they had already done, nobody seemed to have yet tired of gawking at her.

"Not bad," Chat Noir said beside her. He noticed how her gaze lingered on the stony expressions facing her, and tried to distract her from it. It was the least he could do - not to mention that the constant ogling was making _him_ uncomfortable as well. _If they only knew who he was beneath his mask, he would be getting the exact same reception as she was right now..._ "Who knew that excessive drinking could be so bad for you?" he quipped at her.

To his great relief, she managed a smile. "That's what they teach in schools, Chaton ," she playfully retorted. "You should pay more attention in class!"

"Oh, I will," he said, with a meaning only he was aware of. _The things you learnt in class...this was turning out to be a very informative morning..._

Ladybug turned, a frown forming above her polka-dotted mask. Her gaze fell upon the rows of windows overlooking the corridor."For now, though, we could use a recess break - if only we could get outside to enjoy it." She dashed over and pounded on a pane experimentally with a clenched fist, but it held firm.

Chat Noir tried to pry the door open with his staff, as if he hadn't already made several futile attempts to open it as Adrien. "It doesn't look like we'll be let out of school any time soon," he said. Casually as he could, he asked: "Do you want me to get us excused from class with a Cataclysm?"

Ladybug was still beating against the window; her fist stopped halfway to the glass, a panicked expression spreading across her face.

Adrien tensed at the sight, realizing it had been completely the wrong thing to suggest. She had just been forced to show her classmates who she really was; there was _no way_ she would want him to use his special power so early in the fight and risk having his transformation run out in front of the students. Not after having just gone through it herself.

"Maybe not just yet," she replied, in a brisk tone that gave away no signs of concern; if he hadn't seen her falter for just a moment, he would've been none the wiser. She turned away from the windows, facing her partner instead, as a new thought occurred to her. "How did you get in here, Chat Noir?"

Adrien jerked upright, giving a violent start. His tail stood out straight behind him; his lips curled back in an uneasy grimace. His acting skills only abandoned him for a second. Then he crossed his ankles and leaned against the door, in what he hoped looked like a matter-of-fact pose. He really should have been expecting that question, but it had taken him completely unawares. He groped around hurriedly for a satisfactory answer, a nervous chill prickling at the back of his neck all the while.

"Uh, I um... I-I came in through the air vents!" he managed to say, after a moment's frantic fumbling. "The windows and doors were all sealed, so I had to find another way..." Well, _Adrien_ had already been on the inside, but _Chat Noir_ had come out of the air duct, so it wasn't exactly a lie!

Ladybug noticed for the first time that the grille over one of the vents was slightly ajar. She pulled off the cover and peered at the network of ducts disappearing up into the darkness. "Do you think we can get out the same way?"

"Um, maybe...?" Chat Noir hesitantly suggested. "If Schoolmistress hasn't sealed it up since I got in..."

He motioned her to step back, heaving an inward sigh of relief when she complied without question. Aiming the end of his baton into the opening of the shaft, he extended it as far as he could, hoping against hope that the whole ventilation system hadn't been closed off from the very beginning. He felt the tip of his staff come up against a solid wall; the sound that echoed back to him was that of metal striking metal. It seemed to have hit a corner in the vent. With any luck, the way beyond it was unobstructed.

"I-I think it's still clear," he informed her, congratulating himself on a bluff well-played.

"Good." She stuck her head into the vent, peering up into the shadows. "Shall we take the high-road?" she suggested, with a spark of humour; he marvelled that she could still manage to be so outwardly unconcerned. "I believe the staffroom is on the floor above this one. The first thing we should do is find the teachers and make sure that they are okay."

She didn't offer any explanation for how she knew where the staffroom was, and he didn't ask. "Sounds like a plan." He stepped back and gave a half-bow, gesturing towards the vent. "After you - ladies first."When she eyed him questioningly, he explained: "I'm the one with night-vision. If you slip during the climb, I'll be able to see and catch you."

"Assuming I would ever be clumsy enough to slip," she pointed out, giving him a bemused look.

 _Whoops,_ Adrien thought to himself, _that was a bit of a blunder_. _Would I have suggested that if I didn't know she was Marinette?_ Perhaps he still would've done; but now that he knew, he couldn't be sure...

She merely shrugged, heading towards the vent. Just as she reached it, she slowly turned, taking in the assembly of shell-shocked students behind her. Every set of eyes in the room was still fixed on her. He heard her take a deep, bracing breath; then she spun around to properly face them.

"Listen up," she said, addressing them with authority - as Ladybug? as class-president? it didn't really matter - which was no less impressive for all her hidden nerves. "Chat Noir and I will defeat the super-villain and free you. There is no way to unlock the doors and windows just now, so please stay here for the time being. _Do not_ try to get out through the air-conditioning vents after us-" her eyes seemed to dart towards Alya, hover briefly over her, then hastily look away again "-it's not safe out there for any students, so _please_ just let us handle it. You'll know when it's okay to come out. Everything will be back to normal very soon."

She tried to smile, but it was just as hollow as her words had been. Chat Noir folded his arms uncomfortably. There was no way _everything_ could go back to normal after this, even after the akuma was defeated. They all knew full-well that it would never be the same again - not now that they all _knew_.

She wondered if she should have bothered to say anything at all; no one was reacting even the slightest. With a last wistful look at the blankly-staring faces surrounding her, she crossed back over to the gap in the wall.

"Ladybug...?"

She had been just about to step into the vent; at the sound of a hesitant voice behind her she flinched, almost hitting her head on the roof of the opening. She wheeled around quickly in surprise, Chat Noir doing exactly the same.

It was Alya. _Of course_ it was Alya. Though she still wore an expression that looked vaguely haunted, she took a few steps towards her favourite heroine, looking searchingly into her face. As if she was trying to find something there. Some glimpse of recognition, hidden behind the mask.

"Good luck," she said, sounding incredibly uncertain; her voice broke slightly on her next words. "B-be careful, won't you?"

Chat Noir glanced concernedly at his partner. She didn't respond out loud. From the look on her face, he doubted she trusted herself to speak, and he didn't blame her; he suddenly had a lump in his throat. She gave a small, stiff nod, wearing a smile that was so heart-breakingly genuine, it couldn't be described as anything less than tragic.

With a stifled gasp which might have been a partial sob, she whirled around and hastily climbed into the ventilation shaft, the red of her suit disappearing into the darkness. Chat Noir followed her in silence, sparing one last look around the room before he shut the grille behind him.

* * *

Once they were gone, the room stayed frozen in eerie silence for several long minutes. No one seemed quite sure how to process the shock they had received. After a while, the first few feeble signs of life began to appear; people stirred, turning to each other in incredulous wonder, exchanging words here and there. The same muted phrases were repeated over and over again:

 _"Was that real? Did that actually happen? Did I really see...? Is she really..."_

While Ladybug - _Marinette_ \- had been a presence directly in front of them, she had held them all transfixed. Now, with the spell on them slowly beginning to break, they tried to deal with what had just happened, each in their own way.

Nathanael was sitting curled up on a bench, his head in his hands. He said something through his fingers that sounded like: _'I had to go and fall for the same girl twice_.' Juleka, who was sitting nearest to him, went over and patted his shoulder consolingly.

Max was rifling through files on his tablet with an increasing sense of urgency, occasionally muttering words like 'contradictory statics' and 'lack of supporting data' in a frantic tone. Rose perched on the seat beside him, listening and responding at odd intervals; her own explanations involved concepts like 'cosmic destiny' and 'karmic justice'.

They were doing better than some. A row away from them, Kim and Alix were spectacularly failing to have a discussion. They took turns attempting to speak, only to come up empty and stare at each other, agog with amazement. Though no words passed between them, their matching expressions of dazed incredulousness told the other that they were thinking and feeling exactly the same thing.

Ivan and Mylene were a bit apart from the others, sunk deep in their own private conference. Mylene had her knees bent up to her chest and was cosily enveloped by her boyfriend's hulking frame. His head was lowered and they appeared to be whispering animatedly together, though their voices were far too low for anyone else to hear.

The diary lay on the ground in the central aisle, where Chloe had dropped it. Everyone appeared to have forgotten it. Chloe herself was not so much _seated_ at her desk as _collapsed_ over it, her arms covering her head. It was testament to her distress that her hair was in complete disarray, yet she didn't even notice; or if she _did_ notice, she actually didn't _care._ She was busy muttering to herself in a constant stream which, as far as anyone could tell, was completely unintelligible.

Someone else noticed the journal. A hand hesitantly reached out towards it; eyes nervously regarded it through thick-rimmed glasses. Though the diary had already bitten these fingers once, curiosity finally out-weighed timidity, and Sabrina slowly bent to pick it up...

It was whisked away from her, making her jump back with a gasp.

"This isn't yours," Alya said in a dangerous tone, plucking the diary out of her reach and clutching it protectively to her chest. "It belongs to my friend, and I'll be minding it for her until she gets back."

Faced with such a furious glower, Sabrina nodded and beat a shame-faced retreat. Darting Chloe a curious look, she gave her a wide berth and sat down upon the window ledge, keeping a safe distance away from the other girl's self-contained tantrum.

Alya went to her seat, placing the journal on the desk in front of her. Her expression remained warlike for a moment; then it crinkled into an uncertain grimace. She gazed at the object in front of her in consternation.

The greatest temptation she had ever faced in her life was staring her right in the face. Everything she had ever dreamed of was right here at her fingertips: the personal diary of her favourite heroine, written from her own point of view, chronicling all her adventures, rife with undisclosed details about her private life. _There was so much material for her blog here... more than she could have ever dreamed of..._

She gave a harsh grunt, disappointed at herself for her moment of weakness. She abruptly snatched up Marinette's satchel, thrust the diary inside, slapped it back on the desk, and leaned her elbows on top of it, effectively sealing it against herself as much as anyone else. She gave the rest of the room a vicious glare, as if daring them to try to take it from her; everyone who met her gaze hastily looked away again.

Satisfied that she was doing her rightful duty by her best friend, she ran a hand through her hair with a strained sigh. She was really no better than Chloe or Sabrina: she was dying to know what was written in those pages. Ever since the first shock of the reveal, her mind had been a blinding whirl of questions, and answers were infuriatingly slow in coming. But as much as her aspiring journalistic mind was begging to know, another, greater part of her - the part that was more than a little concerned for her best friend - was dreading having to find out.

Ladybug had been active for almost a year now... _just how much had she managed not to notice in that time?!_

Nino was sitting directly in front of her. From the slack expression she could see on the side of his face that was turned towards her, he appeared to be about as shocked as she felt. He had also been sitting mere seats away from a super-heroine - _and had briefly been crushing on her,_ Alya reminded herself. To think she had been this close - _just one seat away_ \- from Ladybug all along, every day in class! She, and Nino, and Adrien-

 _Huh? Wait, where was-_

Alya wondered where Adrien had got to; the part of her that dutifully kept tabs on her best friend's crush noticed that he wasn't in his seat. She had expected him to be huddled with his friend, but Nino was definitely alone - for all it mattered, since he appeared to be struck-dumb and insensible at the moment. Had Adrien wandered off to compare staggered responses with someone who was a bit less like a zombie?

 _He must be up the back talking with the others,_ she decided, returning to far more pressing matters.

An akuma was attacking the school... and her best friend was out there, with Chat Noir, about to fight it. She had been fighting other akuma since the beginning of the school year... and all through that time, she'd had _no idea!_ Countless videos were splashed across the website she herself had set up - countless hours of footage that she had spent late nights editing - and there were hundreds of photos she had pored over, reports she had scoured, several scenes of akuma attacks where she had _come face to face with her heroes_ \- and she _still_ hadn't realized!

 _All this time, her closest school friend had been Ladybug..._ Marinette _was Ladybug...all this time..._

* * *

 _Author's note: holy cow, this turned out to be a long one! I should've added a bit of this one to the end of the previous chapter before I posted it, but I wanted to get it up as soon as possible, no point going back after the fact; and I couldn't find a good point to cut this chapter off towards the end. Mostly this installment went on so long because it mostly consists of Adrien over-thinking everything - which, under the circumstances, is probably understandable. I have a tendency to include a lot of psycho-analysis of characters in my stories. I find that kind of thing interesting myself, but I worry sometimes that it detracts from the action and slows down the pace too much. Based on some reviews I've gotten, people don't seem to mind that, which is a relief! Now that the pair are going after the villainess herself, things should get a bit more action-oriented._

 _Thanks to everyone who wrote in with reviews, especially that reader who posted a rant at Chloe, very entertaining! I try to answer as many reviews as I can - when I can think of something to say other than 'thanks for your feedback, new chapter coming up' - but it takes me a while and this thing is consuming more of my life than it should as it is. Sorry in advance if I don't get back to you, I appreciate it all the same! ~ W.J._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

The ventilation shaft wasn't very difficult to climb. It would have been quicker for Ladybug to hook her yoyo on a crossbeam and reel herself straight up, but with no idea where Schoolmistress was, they were opting for stealth over speed.

She balanced precariously on her toes as her fingertips blindly skimmed the walls, searching for a higher grip. Her gloves afforded her plenty of traction with the slippery steel, and even in the dark she managed to feel her way to the next foothold. It was tedious, but certainly not the most challenging thing she had ever done. Swinging through the city one-handed while dragging useless, pixellated limbs, with a panicking rock-star draped over her shoulder probably took that honour.

Chat Noir had it even easier than her, able to sink his claws into the tiny seams between metal panels. With that and his night-vision, she knew he could make this climb a lot quicker than she could - she was setting a respectable pace, but given how long the akuma had been on the loose for, it seemed painfully slow. Yet if he was at all impatient, he didn't let on. He didn't offer to carry her either, much to her surprise.

In fact, he wasn't saying _anything_. Though they were making a concerted effort to sneak up on the akuma, she had expected a whispered pun or under-breath quip long before now. It was far too quiet; except for the occasional clink of his claws or scrape of his boots, she might have been climbing on her own. Though she was slightly horrified at herself for having to admit it, she actually _missed_ his usual incessant chatter.

Distracted by this extraordinary thought, her foot slipped.

She only fell a short way before her fingers dug painfully into a miniscule ridge in the surface of the metal, stopping her descent. She winced as the tips of her toes thudded loudly against the wall, the dull crash echoing through the confined space. She hoped Schoolmistress wasn't anywhere near an open vent; for all she knew, she had just banged a gong to alert the villain of their presence.

She huffed wearily to herself. Couldn't _anything_ go right for her today? So much for her supposed 'luck'.

Dangling above a steep drop by her barest fingertips, it took her a moment to notice that there was something solid beneath her right foot; the other trod air, so she quickly hooked it around whatever it was she stood on. It felt about an inch in diameter, and its surface was rounded, sort of like a pipe...

A glowing green paw-print winked up at her. It was Chat Noir's staff; he must have seen her slip and quickly extended his baton across the width of the shaft, creating a foothold for her.

 _Now she sort of saw the logic behind him insisting that she go first._

Balancing as easily as a professional tight-rope walker, she shifted her weight to her left leg and carefully extended her right, probing the featureless wall in front of her with her toes. The sole of her foot bumped against a slight protuberance that seemed wide enough to give her purchase. She cautiously stepped onto it and hauled herself back onto the wall, feeling very much like her namesake insect pressed against a windshield.

He must have been watching to make sure she was safe. She heard the faint _swoosh_ as he retracted his baton, then a muffled fumbling as he one-handedly returned it to his belt. Neither sound completely masked his soft sigh of relief.

 _Okay_ , her irritation that his comment about her possibly falling had come true was tempered by the fact that he'd been watching out for her, as promised.

"Thanks, Chat," she whispered, addressing the shadowy figure beneath her. It was very dim inside the vent, but not pitch-black. She glimpsed a flash of blond hair that looked ash-grey in the darkness, then two dots of luminous green as he raised his head to look at her.

"Don't mention it," he murmured back.

The sound of his voice reminded her just how little of _anything_ he had mentioned; she didn't remember him _ever_ having been so quiet for so long before. Where was the constant banter she was used to? The unstemmable stream of hideously un-funny puns? The dubious pick-up lines he so persistently plied her with? His silence made her suspicious. She was very aware of the advantage over her that his night-vision gave him - and their respective positions inside the tunnel. Perhaps if his mouth was disengaged, it meant his eyes were working overtime...

Her pride had already taken several knocks today. If that _was_ what he was doing, there was no way she would let him get away with it - even if he _was_ her close and only ally right now.

She brought up her mental map of the school building, using her familiarity with her surroundings to figure out where they were. She reckoned they must be somewhere near Mr D'Argencourt's store room full of gym equipment; she doubted the akuma would have reason to be anywhere near there, so it should be safe for them to talk. The fact that there had been no response to the racket she had just made set her slightly at ease.

"How's the view down there?" she asked, trying to keep any undue pettiness out of her tone.

"Hm?" he asked, sounding distracted.

"The view," she repeated. Part of her wished to abandon the topic, but another was glad that she had at least broken the silence. "Are you keeping your eyes ahead?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," he replied, in the same preoccupied manner. "Why?"

"Because if you're looking anywhere you're not supposed to, the next thing you'll see is the sole of my foot coming towards your face."

He looked up, confused by her words - and the blatant threat. What did she mean by 'the view'? The darkness inside the tunnel was not quite dense enough for him to engage his night-vision, but he could still see pretty well. Looking up, he noticed that her heels were indeed hovering less than a foot above his upturned face. Beyond that, he could make out the backs of her calves, more burgundy than red in the murky light. He caught a glimpse of a bent elbow, a jutting hip, the curve of her b-

Sudden realization came crashing down on him. He was lucky his claws were hooked into a tiny crevice in the wall; if he hadn't already been firmly latched on, he would have surely flailed and let go. As it was, his boots scrabbled frantically for a few moments before he managed to find his footing again. He was faintly surprised that the interior of the tunnel wasn't illuminated by a brilliant red glow; his face felt hot enough for them to use as a torch.

"I didn't- I wasn't- I wouldn't-" he stammered, stumbling helplessly over his words. What on _earth_ made her think that he would-

She laughed softly in the shadows above him. Though he could have very well only pretended to be flustered to hide any wrong-doing, she somehow trusted that his reaction was genuine. It was rather gratifying to hear him stutter for once, given how infuriatingly cocky he normally was!

"I guess I believe you," she said, enjoying the chance to tease him far more than she should.

"Good, because it's the truth," he muttered back. Though he knew she couldn't see him, he kept his eyes downcast.

"Sorry if I took your concentration away from the climb," she added, feeling just a little bit remorseful - but not very much. "I was starting to wonder if the cat had your tongue!"

He could only manage a weak chuckle in response. Usually he would have enthused endlessly over a pun coming from her; however, he was too overwhelmed right then to be properly impressed. The simple fact that they were alone together was doing all kinds of things to him that it usually wouldn't. While they had been in front of their classmates, he had managed to put up a front of normalcy, for the sake of their audience. Now, with no one there besides themselves, he was all too aware of who was _really_ next to him, and it was very, very _weird_. He was having trouble pretending that he knew nothing, that everything was normal, that all this time she hadn't been... she wasn't...

"You've certainly reverted to schoolboy manners today," she said, since he had lapsed into uncharacteristic silence.

He could hear the smirk in her voice. The heat of his face was not abating even the slightest. "Believe it or not, I'm actually a pretty good student," he replied. Struggling to come up with natural-sounding small-talk, he resorted to the truth.

She gave a giggle that sounded far from convinced. "You should be," she retorted. "Remember, I've been around for almost five-thousand years longer than you. You still have a lot to learn, kitten!"

"Sure do," he feebly returned. Though he didn't dare say it aloud, he thought: _not half as much as_ you _have yet to learn..._

He had spent most of the climb debating whether or not to reveal his identity to her. He had been torturously going back and forth, reasoning that he should just get it over with while they had some time alone, until her minor slip had discouraged him. Though she was acting far stronger than even _he_ had dared imagine she could be, he knew that she must still be reeling inside; her reaction to Alya's words had been proof enough. He didn't want to burden her with anything else on top of what she was already dealing with.

That was what he told himself, anyway. Though he tried to convince himself that it was for the sake of dealing with the akuma, it still felt like a coward's way out.

He had no idea how she would deal with knowing who he was. He wasn't sure how he was dealing with who _she_ was, let alone whether his honesty would make things any better or not. The inequality of him knowing while she didn't made him cringe, but... now just didn't seem like the right time. He didn't know when _would_ be the right time; his own jolt of awareness had certainly been far from ideal.

Other thoughts, far from welcome, came crowding into his head. He had been avoiding thinking about it, but after the exchange they had just had, there was no turning away from it. All this time, his advances and one-liners and amorous overtures, he'd been making them to... he had unwittingly been... all along, he'd been _flirting with_...

All this time, he'd had a crush on _Marinette_. Nope, he still wasn't quite ready to deal with that yet.

If he had known who he was talking to... if he had been aware of just _who_ it was behind the mask, surely he would've toned it down, made less of a fool of himself, not been such a... because it had been _Marinette_ , and he didn't... he wasn't... he hadn't _known_ -

 _So you're saying,_ piped up a voice in his head - not Plagg, no this was entirely himself, and all the more treacherous for it - _you're saying that the idea of flirting with your close school-friend freaks you out, but you're perfectly fine with chatting up an alluring girl in a skin-tight suit who is a complete stranger? What the hell is wrong with you?!_

He had no answer to that. He felt ashamed of himself. All his heavy-handed compliments and suggestive one-liners, what exactly had he been hoping to achieve with them? _Who_ had he thought he was trying them on? He had been perfectly fine with it when he hadn't known who she was; and now, knowing that he had been hitting on _Marinette_ all this time, he was-

 _Disgusted_. He was _disgusted_ with himself. _Geez_ , there was no way he could tell her who he really was! She would think he was a total _creep_ , she would hit him upside of the face with her yoyo and he would deserve it, she would want nothing to do with him ever again, she would-

"Hey, come look at this," she said, bringing his train of self-loathing thought to a crashing halt.

He only now realized that it had grown brighter inside the tunnel. She had stopped in front of an air vent. The light filtering through the grille painted stripes across her spotted mask, the uneven shadows dappling her eyes several shades of blue. _Oh lord, how had he not noticed- those eyes, the exact colour was- it was_ her _behind them, she was- how had he not seen-!_

Realizing she was waiting for him to join her, he scurried up the side of the shaft until he was level with her. Struggling not to writhe uncomfortably as he found himself _very_ close to her - he hoped she would pass off any redness in his face as a trick of the light - he peered through the vent as she was doing, trying to ignore the fact that his cheek was very nearly pressed up against hers. They were somewhere on the second floor, looking down at the corridor from the height of the ceiling. The angle of the grille allowed him a very limited view of their surroundings. At the edge of this range, he could just barely peer through the window into a nearby classroom. He could see students milling about, sitting in their seats or on top of desks, huddled together. They appeared to be comforting each other, talking together with worried expressions on their faces.

His heart clenched guiltily in his chest. While he'd been flipping out over his romantic life (or lack thereof), he had completely lost sight of the job they were meant to be doing.

"It looks like all the other students are locked in too," Ladybug said beside him.

Her words pulled his attention back to her. Glancing sideways, he noticed how her bangs curled gently where they came to rest against her cheek; how the fiery red of her mask made her hair appear to have a faint blue tint by comparison, as though to better match her eyes; how the contours of her mask perfectly followed the delicate curve at the bridge of her nose; how the stones of her earrings glinted bright against the dainty pale-pink shell of her earlobe-

He clenched a fist that made his own Miraculous bite into his finger through his glove, trying to snap himself out of it. _Right, costumed hero, professionalism, saving the day. Focus._

He glanced at the classroom again, noticing no signs of panic despite the fear, no menacing flash of white among the crowd. "The books and papers aren't attacking anyone else," he murmured.

"Just Chloe's class," she agreed with him; he applauded himself for at least noticing that much. "I think she was the one who caused the teacher to be akumatized-"

"How unexpected," he muttered, before he could stop himself.

The wry smile she gave him did strange things to his heartbeat. He suddenly realized (again) that this was _Marinette_ beside him, and she was just as well-acquainted - if not _better_ acquainted - with Chloe's antics as he was. No wonder she had stormed out when they had been protecting the mayor's daughter from the Evilstrator; if he remembered correctly, Chloe had been putting moustaches on Nathanael's drawings of her... _oh boy..._

"That girl isn't about to get any medals," she dryly observed.

"I wonder if _we'll_ be getting any medals," he muttered back, glad to be having a somewhat normal conversation with her. "Sometimes, a set of statues doesn't quite seem like enough."

"Not in it for the glory, are you?" she asked, darting him a sidelong glance.

He baulked, unsure of how to respond. _Oh god, this was his Lady and she was Marinette, his friend Marinette and his beloved Lady were one and the same, this was weird, he wasn't sure how to-_ "O-of course not. A city saved is its own reward."

She cracked a smile at that, and his heart flip-flopped all over again. "Hm, well-said." While he let the fact that she had just complimented him seep into his brain, she surveyed the corridor again. "I think the staffroom is a little further on. Let's go."

"O-okay."

* * *

He didn't know what to do with his eyes for the rest of the trip. It was difficult to avoid looking at her when she was directly in front of him, filling most of his vision, her back near-impossible not to gaze at. Luckily, it was only a short journey; as she had said - and he well knew - the staffroom was just ahead of them.

As they went along, he asked himself: what _was_ wrong with Marinette being his Lady? He was having a hard time accepting that fact, and he wasn't at all sure _why_ it was such a struggle for him. It wasn't like he had anything against Marinette - far from it, he considered her one of his closest school friends. That was just it: she was one of his _closest school friends_. He had never considered her like that, never thought of her in that light. Not that she was unattractive in any way - she was sweet and smart and talented and kind and really very pretty, quite gorgeous actually, _those eyes were just_ \- and, before he got too weirded out by it, he wasn't the only one who thought so. Nathanael had gotten _akumatized_ over her, and he himself had done his best to set Nino up with her. That in itself was a major problem: _he had tried to set his up own best friend with her!_ God, could he have been any more of an idiot?! He had made such a fine mess of things, there was no way that he-

He noticed that Ladybug had stopped just in time, coming within inches of running into her. He backed up hastily, hoping she hadn't noticed. She didn't seem to; she turned to look at him as best she could in the narrow tunnel. She raised a finger to her lips, then motioned him forward, prompting a stealthy shuffle within the cramped space. Once again, they peered out through the vent together, cautiously looking for signs of a super-villainess in the near vicinity.

Miss Tobin was nowhere in sight, but they could see the other teachers through the windows of the staffroom.

Mr Damocles had the receiver of an old-fashioned landline phone pressed to his ear; he was dialling number after number, but it was obvious that the line wouldn't connect to the outside world. He was probably the oldest member of the staff, and beside him was the youngest: Theo was hunched over a laptop, typing with one hand, while with the other he scrolled through the screen of a mobile phone. Given the way he had a lolly-stick clenched tightly between his teeth in frustration, he didn't seem to be having any better luck.

Chat Noir may have tensed _very slightly_ at the sight of his former foe and love-rival. He forced himself to get over it, turning his attention elsewhere.

Several half-filled coffee cups had been moved to one side of the main table, and an ancient-looking radio sat amongst them. Ms Mendeleiev was administering to it, using the tip of a teaspoon wrapped in a dishcloth as an improvised screwdriver. She poked at its inner workings and swivelling its dials with a practised touch, pursing her lips the exact same way she did as she carefully poured chemicals from one test tube into another for class demonstrations. Mr Haprele hovered beside her, watching over her shoulder and passing her things - napkins, paperclips, rubber bands - as she asked for them.

Through the windows closest to the door, they could see Mr D'Argencourt staring intently at the lock. His hand wasn't visible, but he seemed to be tinkering furiously, his right arm jerking as if he were dealing a riposte; his brow was furrowed and his forehead was beaded with perspiration. He suddenly straightened and scowled, tossing something aside with what appeared to be a muttered oath. Next to him, Ms Bustier simply gave a resigned shrug as she took another pin from her hair and passed it to him. Leaning forward to watch him make another attempt at picking the lock, a few strands of red hair came free and tumbled over her shoulder.

Chat Noir couldn't help but smile. It seemed the students weren't the only ones who understood the value of teamwork!

Speaking of which, Ladybug turned to him. She didn't say a word, merely pointed downwards, her free hand going to the yoyo at her hip. Having instantly comprehended exactly what she meant, Chat Noir nodded in reply, retrieving his baton from his belt. Taking care not to make a sound, she shifted aside and made room for him, this time raising three fingers. One by one, she curled them back, counting down: three, two-

On 'one', he struck the grille and sent it flying; it clattered loudly as it hit the ground below. In one smooth, simultaneous motion, the two heroes dove head-first through the vent, flipping to land in battle-ready stances, weapons already whirling to deflect any surprise attacks. When none came, Chat Noir raced to the door of the staffroom, Ladybug attentively guarding his back.

He tugged at the doorknob; just as expected, it didn't budge. "It won't open either," he said, glancing at his partner over his shoulder. "I could use Cataclysm, but even if we free them, we'd still have t-"

He realized that Ms Bustier was signalling frantically at him through the window; having gotten his attention, she pointed to his right, at something he hadn't yet seen-

" _Down!_ "

He really _was_ a good student; he listened to his teacher and trusted her judgement implicitly. Whirling on the spot, he seized Ladybug and threw them both sideways. His obedience was rewarded: several unidentified missiles thudded into the staffroom door, cleaving the air where they had just stood.

Chat Noir found himself falling towards Ladybug, who had landed sprawled on her back. She eyed him for a split-second, then tilted her head back, glancing at something beyond his line of sight. He let go of her mid-fall, turning his forward momentum into a hand-spring that sent him sailing over her; she performed a fluid roll that took her back onto her feet, swinging her weapon up ready. His staff was in his hand at the same moment, held before him in a guard position.

Schoolmistress glided sedately down the corridor towards them.

Sinister though she undoubtedly was, there was something dignified and almost demur about her - the way she held herself, the assuredness of her movement. Her hands were clasped primly before her, her steps measured, her manner composed. Her eyes glinted keenly behind her spectacles, the sharpness of their gaze augmented by the dark swathe that masked them, resembling an ink-splotch. Her lips, quirked up in the suggestion of a leer, were painted a similar hue.

Looking at them, Ladybug gave an involuntary shudder.

"I'm so glad you could join us for class today, Ladybug, Chat Noir," the villainess said, in a simpering tone that was meant to sound agreeable, but did nothing to conceal the impending threat behind it. "I trust you will be well-behaved pupils, and hand over your Miraculous for safe-keeping. It would be a shame if anything should happen to them. Things with such immense value should not be entrusted to the youth. Children can be so careless, and we wouldn't want them to be ruined."

As she spoke, she smoothed the folds of the scarf at her throat. Ladybug and Chat Noir exchanged a quick look. There was no doubt about it: that scarf was the source of her akuma. Having figured that out, it was only a matter of taking it away from her and purifying it.

Simple in theory, far more complicated in practice.

"I think we are old enough to look after our own things, thank you," Ladybug declared, subtly shifting her weight so she was poised to leap at a moment's notice. Though she always preferred to reason with an akuma, she knew her chances of success weren't very high. Evilstrator and Pixellator had been exceptions, not the rule; she fully expected negotiations to turn into an altercation at any moment. "Miss Tobin, you don't need to do this to make students respect you. They already-"

"I am _not_ Colleen Tobin," the woman interrupted, her voice suddenly harsh. Her face contorted into a furious glower. "I am Schoolmistress, and I have full authority here - including over you and your Miraculous!"

"I think Mr Damocles might object to that," Chat Noir pointed out. Like Ladybug, he didn't expect the villainess to see logic; but distracting her even slightly might give them an opening they could exploit. "He _is_ the appointed headmaster of this college, after all."

Schoolmistress smiled again; the expression was far from friendly. "I am afraid that the _former_ headmaster has been superseded in his position. I dictate the rules here, and you must obey!"

"But we're not even enrolled here," Chat Noir countered, fighting the urge to cross his fingers behind his back. Beside him, Ladybug gave no indication that this was in any way a falsehood.

"That is irrelevant," Schoolmistress declared, sounding very pleased with herself. "I am the supreme denizen of every institute in Paris; every single school in the city falls under my dominion. And if you do not obey my rules, you must be punished!"

The tension surrounding her suddenly broke. Her outward composure had masked a festering ill-intent; with a sudden swipe of her hand, she hurled something at them.

Chat Noir didn't hesitate. He'd been expecting something exactly like this, had been anticipating it. As soon as Schoolmistress raised her hand, he was already stepping forward. Extending his staff until it was long enough to cover them both, he twirled it before him, forming a protective shield. He wasn't sure what it was that she had thrown at them, but whatever they were, they hit his baton with enough force to raise sparks as they were deflected. Schoolmistress didn't cease her onslaught, aiming one handful of projectiles after another at them in quick succession. Chat Noir didn't so much as blink, dutifully spinning his baton in an impenetrable arc. If he was starting to cramp like he had against Climatika, he gave no sign of it.

One of Schoolmistress' weapons pinged off the edge of his staff, coming dangerously close to his fingers; it sailed within inches of his face before lodging itself in the frame of the window beside him. On the other side of the pane, Theo sprung back, mouth wide in a startled squawk that was muffled by the glass. Chat Noir bit back a satisfied grin that was far from charitable, forcing himself to concentrate on what he had seen during that split-second: a small rectangle that seemed to have razor-sharp edges despite being rounded at the corners, bearing a photo of a boy with dark-brown hair, the words 'Jean Duparc' printed in bold letters beside it.

He now knew what it was that Schoolmistress was throwing at them. They were library cards, they were laminated, and they were _lethal_.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ladybug edge to his left. Schoolmistress instantly aimed her blades that way; Chat Noir shifted to cover her, cards flying every which way as his staff knocked them out of the air.

"What are you _doing_?" she asked him, in an exasperated hiss.

"Preventing you from being cut to ribbons," he replied, surprised by her tone. Since he was making a chivalrous effort to shield her, he had expected her to be a bit more grateful than she sounded.

"You're pinning me to the wall," she complained back at him. When he opened his mouth to point out that was what _the akuma_ was trying to do, she cut him off: "You're blocking my shot."

"I'm blocking a barrage of lending-cards that could cut you in half," he testily retorted. _To think that nice, meek little Marinette could be so argumentative-_

"You aren't helping by boxing me in," she countered. "I'm wasted back here, doing nothing. One of us should be running interference while the other sneaks close enough to snatch her scarf." She lowered her voice a little more as she uttered these last words. She didn't want Schoolmistress to know that they knew where her butterfly had concealed itself. As it was, only one of them was aware that they both knew all about it.

Adrien uncertainly considered her words, hands still whirling his staff as if they had a life of their own. Sure, he knew that Ladybug - _Marinette_ \- would have to enter the fight at some point; after all, she was the only one out of the two of them who could purify the akuma. But it was way too dangerous for her at the moment, he didn't mind taking the brunt of the attack if it kept her safe. After all, it was _Marinette_ that he was shielding; if she were to go out there and get hurt - besides the fact that Alya and her parents would probably kill him between the three of them - that would be-

He felt a hand on his shoulder. That was the only warning he had as Ladybug used him as a vault-horse with which to launch herself into the air, easily somersaulting beyond the reach of his staff.

"Try to get closer!" she called back at him, as she sailed high over his head. "I'll draw her fire and distract her!"

He didn't have time to protest; Schoolmistress had noticed her manoeuvre, aiming a dozen cards in her direction. A simple spin of Ladybug's yoyo knocked them aside. Her trajectory had taken her close to the wall of the corridor; her feet made contact and she pushed herself off at an angle, a trail of deflected cards falling in her wake. She landed on Schoolmistress' other side, trapping the villainess between herself and her partner.

As soon as she got into position, Chat Noir could see the reasoning behind her tactic. With her focus split between two targets, Schoolmistress could only aim her missiles at one of them at a time, leaving the other momentarily free to advance on her. Like a sinister take on the children's game of statues, Chat Noir snuck closer to the villainess while Ladybug swatted aside the lending cards; as soon as Schoolmistress noticed his approach and sent a handful his way, Ladybug used the reprieve to dart forward a few paces.

She had been right. Chat Noir ruefully bit his lip as he swung his staff up, a light rain of fallen cards clattering about his feet. Ladybug could more than handle herself, he had been wrong to think that she needed him to shield her. After all the battles they had fought together, he should have realized that better than anyone. He just still couldn't get his head around it: the fearless warrior-girl in front of him was _Marinette_ , who had to be saved from tripping over her own feet on a good day; who had been pinned down by the Gamer and turned into a mummy by Pharaoh and a knight by Dark Blade and just barely darted out of Chronogirl's grasp. His instinct to protect his classmate had momentarily overridden the fact that she was also a costumed hero, just as capable - if not even more so - as himself. He still remembered, with a chill down his spine, how they had discovered Marinette's phone on the floor shortly before Horrificator's first appearance; how the bottom had dropped out of his stomach when he realized that she had been captured and encased in slime along with the others, as Ladybug had stooped to pick up-

 _Oh. Right._ Ladybug had picked up _her own phone_. She must have dropped it for them to find, just like he had done with his shoe; no wonder she had noticed that there was no tell-tale slime around it! And she had claimed to find Marinette among the trapped kids, just like he had pretended to be trapped as Adrien. That meant that Marinette hadn't really been turned into a mummy, or a knight; all along, she had been using the same excuses as him to slip away and transform.

 _Damn their kwamis and their veiling magic - just how many times had they transformed within a few mere feet of each other?!_

Their counterattack to Schoolmistress' onslaught was working; they were rapidly gaining ground. Realizing that they were closing in on her, Schoolmistress resorted to more drastic measures. She took hold of the tassel on the bookmark she wore as an earring, and tugged. The paper extended to an impossible length, twisting back on itself; Schoolmistress flicked her wrist and it unfurled in Ladybug's direction, whistling through the air with the force of a coiled whip. Its trenchant edge struck the wall, leaving a large gouge and a cloud of pulverized plaster in its wake.

"Ladybug-!"

Chat Noir shouted out for her in concern, only to turn his focus back on himself as Schoolmistress' flexible blade bit the ground where he had been standing, managing to dance out of the way just in time. He glimpsed a flash of red and black out of the corner of his eye. Ladybug had dodged as well, and was working her way closer to their opponent. Schoolmistress' new weapon was brutally effective, but its attack was muted against a close-quarter opponent; they were already far enough within her range to hinder her use of it.

Ladybug's yoyo shot out, ensnaring the bookmark-blade in a loop of string. Though it had a razor-sharp cutting edge, it was still just paper; it crumpled as the yoyo's unbreakable cord tightened around it.

"Excuse me, Ms. Librarian, I'd like to borrow this!" With a jubilant shout, Ladybug yanked the weapon out of Schoolmistress' hand.

The villainess growled in annoyance. She reached for her other earring, as she desperately tossed another clutch of library cards at Chat Noir.

"Don't worry, I have something to return!" Chat swung his staff with both hands, like a batter striking a fast pitch; a single card reversed its trajectory, flying straight back at Schoolmistress. It passed dangerously close to her, neatly severing the tassel from her other earring, rendering the weapon useless.

Schoolmistress emitted a shriek of fury. They knew they had her cornered; caught in a pincer between them, there was no way she could escape them both. Moving in unison, they both dashed headlong towards the villain, rapidly closing in on her.

Schoolmistress looked from one of them to the other in alarm. With a flash of renewed determination, she reached beneath the lapel of her blazer and drew something out. They had expected another lot of library cards; instead, what she held was larger, darker, and aimed directly at the ground near her feet.

As soon as it struck the floor, the entire corridor disappeared in a cloud of white.

* * *

 _Author's note: what's that? You don't need an update anytime soon? You want me to take as long as I want with the next chapter? *gets shot by angry followers*_

 _Sorry for taking so long with the latest update, this time of year is always hectic but between work stuff and renovations, I've been flat out! Things aren't going to get less busy any time soon, so please be patient, I'll write the next installment as soon as I can! ~ W.J._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Chat Noir spluttered as a cloud of fine grit pressed itself against his face. He instantly tried to blow it away by twirling his staff like the blades of a fan, but that did little to disperse the white fog that had enveloped him. Raising his hand, he watched as fine particles wafted past his dark glove.

 _Some kind of powder...?_

Much as he was trying not to, he could practically taste it. He could swear he recognized that dry, musty scent from somewhere... but that could remain a mystery for now. He needed to locate his partner, preferably before Schoolmistress found either of them first.

He took a breath, immediately regretting it as a powdery film clung to his lips. Giving only a shallow gasp this time, he called as loudly as he dared: "Ladybug...?"

There was a cough from somewhere near, followed by: "Chat Noir?"

 _Yep,_ that was definitely Marinette's voice. Hearing her without seeing that iconic red suit only confirmed it; he could easily picture her usual ensemble of black jacket, floral-print shirt and pink jeans in its place. Putting such comparisons aside for now, he asked: "Where are you?"

Somewhere off to his left, she made an exasperated sound. "If I say 'I'm over here,' is it really going to help?!"

He chuckled, then hastily stopped as he breathed in a lungful of dust. He remembered what had happened last time he inhaled something created by an akuma - or _didn't_ remember, which made the lesson all the more pointed.

"Any sign of Schoolmistress?" she asked him, as both his laughter and the resultant coughing-fit petered out.

"None," he replied, hastily focusing on the situation at hand. Just because they couldn't see her didn't mean the villainess wasn't around - likely armed with more library cards. At the moment they were sitting ducks, separated by the fog and operating blind. They needed to regroup, then beat a strategic retreat.

"Are you near any kind of landmark?" she inquired from somewhere behind the pall of white. "A wall or a window, perhaps?"

"If I am, I can't see it," he muttered back, desperately fighting the urge to sneeze. He hoped the dust wasn't about to set off his allergies - that was the last thing they needed! "Hang on, perhaps I can find you. You sound like you're close."

"Do I?" She spoke for the sake of giving him something to locate her by. She knew his hearing was more sensitive than hers, thanks to his costume's enhancements. Though she couldn't see it, she could imagine his black kitty-ears swivelling in her direction.

"I'm pretty sure you are." He still held his staff in hand; he lengthened it, hoping as he did that she wasn't directly in its path. "I've extended my baton in the direction I think you are. Feel around for it, see if you can find it."

She was silent for a moment, seemingly carrying out his instructions. "Don't swing it blindly, will you? I'm not a piñata! I don't want you to find me by knocking me flat on my face."

He laughed again, hastily clamping a hand over his mouth to filter out the dust. Despite everything that had happened today - or perhaps because of it - she was in fine form! "I'll spare the rod, I promise. I'm merely going fishing; it's up to you to take the bait!"

"I don't like being compared to a fish by a cat!" she retorted. As he began to chuckle again, something bumped into the opposite end of his staff, making it jolt in his hand. "Wait, I found it!"

"Hooked on me at last!" he declared, before he could stop himself. Amid the tension surrounding an akuma-attack, it was apparently second-nature for him to flirt with her. He hadn't done it consciously, would have avoided doing it if he'd been thinking clearly; it would only serve to further muddle his feelings over who he flirted with. At least, that was what he expected; to his own surprise, the idea didn't bother him half as much as it had a few minutes ago. In fact, he regretted his remark far less than he probably should.

"Ha ha," she muttered in reply. His baton shifted again, the other end giving a slight jerk; she was letting him know that she was there. "Which direction are you? I don't want to follow the staff away from you."

"Hang on, I'll retract it towards me."

He did so, slowly, giving her time to figure out which way it was going. Just as he began to run out of baton, a red glove emerged from the white expanse, followed by a pair of brilliant blue eyes. She squinted through the fog, smiling as he came into view. He savoured the sight, grinning delightedly back at her.

 _She was_ two _of his favourite girls, and he was_ so _glad to see her!_

"Look what the cat dragged in!" he drawled, winking gratuitously at her."I 'mist' you, Buginette!"

As usual, she rolled her eyes at his quip. "This isn't 'mist', Chat Noir. What _is_ it? I'm sure I've come across it before... It almost tastes like..."

He dragged his gaze away from her to consider the fine white powder drifting around them, as she was doing. It _was_ familiar; a plume of white dust, somewhere in the school...

Images of Ivan and Alix on clean-up duty, choking themselves and everyone around them in a thick white cloud, flitted across his mind. Every time they were both assigned to tidy the classroom during free period, they wound up racing through the halls, pelting each other and any passers-by with...

"Chalk dust," he said. "This tastes like _chalk dust_. Which means what she threw-"

"-was a blackboard eraser," Ladybug finished for him.

Adrien suddenly felt a little ashamed of himself. Who knew that throwing an eraser at Plagg the previous day would put him on the same level as a supervillain? Not that it was the first time he had sunk as low as an akuma...

"She can weaponize any school item she lays hands on," Ladybug theorized, with a frown. "Our next move should be t-"

Before she could finish, a slight _swish_ to his right alerted Chat Noir. Acting purely on instinct, he shoved Ladybug aside and jumped back. They saw a silvery flash as several library cards whizzed between them; the streaks of movement disappeared into the mist the moment they passed, thudding into an unseen wall half a second later.

"The dust might not blind her," Ladybug murmured, stepping closer to him again and keeping her voice low. "Since it's under her control, she could be able to see through it. How about you? Does your night-vision work at all?"

He half-heartedly tried to peer through the white shroud, shaking his head almost immediately. "No, it doesn't. Night-vision only works in a _black_ -out, not a _white_ -out; this stuff blocks my sight just as much as it does yours."

She had expected as much. "It sounded like there was a wall over there," she said instead, turning in the direction the library cards had gone.

Chat Noir did the same. "Do you think it's the same wall with the vent where we came in? It didn't sound like those cards struck any windows."

"Could be. Can you find it with the same trick you used to find me?"

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I'm more than a one-trick cat, you know, but for you I'm happy to oblige!"

She shook her head wryly. "Talk about the blind leading the blind."

He smirked back at her, green eyes gleaming. He _loved_ these exchanges. This was what took him away from the lonely expanse of his room, what made having to return to it bearable, what the repressed and deprived part of him so badly craved. This casual closeness, this effortless connection, this comfort and camaraderie that no one else could give him, no one but _her_. This was what he liked better than anything, what he liked best about _her_...

 _What you like best about Marinette,_ his mind corrected him. _That's right... about Marinette..._

As he turned away from her, in the possible direction of the nearest wall, he took her hand in his - ostensibly so that they wouldn't lose each other in the fog. To his utter delight, she didn't pull away.

He was holding her hand. _Marinette's hand_.

Trying to push thoughts of her dual-identity out of his head for what felt like the hundredth time that day, he extended his staff. It only took a second before he felt it strike something solid. "Found the wall!" he informed her, giving her hand a triumphant squeeze. "Now for the vent-"

She watched him with a sidelong glance. Through his glove, his hand felt warm. His grasp was firm, but not overly tight; he was mindful not to dig claw-tipped fingers into her palm. He looked so excited as he probed the depths of the mist, the pink tip of his tongue just barely poking out in concentration. The sight was so reminiscent of an actual feline, she laughed inwardly; she would have been tempted to draw whiskers on his face if she'd had a marker handy.

 _How did I take this for granted?_ she asked herself, as he diligently worked alongside her, following the orders she had given him without a word of question. _How did I not appreciate having such a wonderful friend - not until now, when it might all come to an end?_

"Almost got it," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

She hastily bit back a giggle. It was a ridiculous thing to say - how could he _possibly_ know that! - but it was so _him_ , he _was_ sort of ridiculous. She had always scoffed at his silly antics, but... really, she wouldn't trade him for any other partner in the world. Not even for Adrien, which was saying something! He was 'purr-fect' just as he was... and she had never realized it, let alone ever _told_ him, not _once_ since the beginning...

Her mind swiftly ran over it all, like the proverbial life flashing before her eyes: the life of Ladybug. No, that wasn't it. It was the life of _Chat Noir_ \- of _her Chaton_ , as she had always known him. Looking back, she was amazed by how much they had managed to share between them, in such a relatively short space of time. All the battles in which they had been united against a common foe; all the dangers they had faced together side by side; all the risks they had taken for each other's sakes. All the tedious patrols they had done, chatting and kidding to pass the time as they leapt over rooftops together. All the groan-inducing jokes he had told her; all the countless times she'd had to fix an bemused half-smile on her face in order to hide her laughter from him. All the hits he had taken for her; all the times he had pulled her out of harm's way; all the pep-talks he had given her when her self-assurance flagged. All the concern he had shown for her, even unknowingly, when he had encountered her as Marinette. If he only knew- no, more like _when_ he knew, because surely he would eventually find out; and then... _then..._

It was as though the hand that held hers anchored her to so much more - to the best part of herself, to the best things about _him_. To the partnership they'd had. A partnership that would probably dissolve into past tense, after today. Once this was over, once the truth got out, once he became aware... it would all go away. It would never be quite the same again, not after _this_.

She realized, with a lump in her throat, that she never wanted to let go.

She was going to get all teary again if she kept on having such thoughts. He seemed to be aware that she was watching him; he didn't appear self-conscious - she doubted he was even capable of it - but his eyes surreptitiously darted towards her at odd intervals. They couldn't afford to get distracted now. For all they knew, Schoolmistress was about to snipe them out of the fog; they needed to remain on their guard.

"Maybe angle it a bit more," she suggested, leaning forward in an attempt to follow his staff with her gaze; most of it was obscured by dust. "I think the vent was at least a foot higher in the wall."

He instantly made the adjustment. "Yeah, I think you might b-"

He suddenly lurched forward, dragging her with him. It was just as well: a split-second later, several cards sunk into the floor, where they would have pinned her foot to the ground if it had still been there. "Found it!" he said, regaining his balance. He had stumbled as the end of his staff suddenly skittered forward into the opening - and not a moment too soon. "Come on!"

He sprinted into the fog, leading her by the hand. He retracted his baton as he went, following its path through the writhing mist. She went with him trustingly, letting him pull her along in his wake. He soon glimpsed a dark rectangle amidst the white: the opening in the wall. Latching an arm around her, he dropped the end of the staff that he held, re-gripped it higher, and pushed off from the floor, propelling them both towards the vent. It was a good thing they moved so swiftly; they heard library cards zipping through the air around them, hitting the wall with ominous-sounding _thuds_. But they were close to cover, they were almost clear-

They leapt into the vent, landing in a tangled jumble of limbs. He didn't have time to process the fact that she was sprawled on top of him; before his startled brain could register how close she was, she had already scrambled off him, stooping in the narrow space. They couldn't afford to stop now - not with more library cards thundering against the outside wall.

The vents branched off in multiple directions around them. A nearby tunnel led vertically up through the ceiling. Ladybug eyed it speculatively, the barest of tactics already starting to form in her mind. "We should head for the roof. Her chalk-screen won't be as effective in an open space."

Chat Noir managed to get his breath back. Following her gaze, he grasped what she meant immediately. "Good idea."

This time, they didn't bother with stealth. Ladybug snagged a crossbeam with her yoyo and reeled herself up, while Chat Noir rode his telescoping baton alongside her. They rose to meet the square of light that filtered through the grille above them, then shoved their way through it, flinging themselves out onto the rooftop.

They were still blinking in the sudden sunlight when, a heartbeat later, the vent at the opposite end of the roof also burst open. Schoolmistress emerged from it, skirt billowing and scarf streaming in her wake, stray papers fluttering around her. She wasted no time: before her feet had even touched ground, she had already thrown a set of cards at them.

Luckily, they were just as quick to react, darting to either side as the projectiles sunk into the roof tiles between them. Having dodged, they kept moving. They ran around the roof on either side of the courtyard, coming at the villainess from opposite directions. Schoolmistress watched their synchronized approach with a wariness that bordered on alarm. They had already exploited this weakness once; when they came at her from either side, she couldn't accurately aim her cards at them both, leaving her open to at least one attack.

However, erasers didn't need to be aimed with any kind of accuracy, in order to be effective.

Both heroes spluttered as clouds of chalk dust erupted around them at the exact same time, despite the distance between them. Chat Noir couldn't see his partner through the fog. He saw no sign of Schoolmistress either, though he was sure he would spy an incoming batch of library cards soon enough. He leapt into a backward-somersault, hearing the _chink_ of blades hitting the spot where he had been a split-second later. He hoped that if Ladybug had been similarly targeted, she had also managed to evade the attack. He needn't have worried; landing almost exactly where he had been when they first reached the roof, he saw a scarlet figure drop beside him out of the corner of his eye. Though Ladybug said nothing, he read the thoughts behind her apprehensive glance loud and clear.

This approach wasn't going to work for them. So long as Schoolmistress could keep raising a smokescreen, they were stuck on the defensive, with no means of closing in on her.

"What's the plan?" Chat Noir asked, speaking out of the corner of his mouth, as much to avoid breathing dust as to keep from being overheard. Though he knew that Ladybug was probably feeling just as hopeless as himself right now, it wasn't likely to last. Whenever they were in a pinch like this, she always found a way out of it. Was it any wonder she had been unanimously voted class president - after keeping the students safe during an akuma attack both in and out of costume, no less?

Ladybug scanned the pall of white before her. Their options were limited; however, given how dividing Schoolmistress' attention had already proven beneficial to them, their best bet was-

"Divide and conquer," she told him.

Chat grinned wryly. Though he had been waiting for her to instruct him, he wasn't at all surprised by the course of action she had picked. "I suppose I'm the distraction, as per usual?" It was more like familiar banter than a genuine complaint. He'd been half-heartedly protesting about it ever since their battle against Pharaoh.

Just as she had done back then, she attempted to placate him with flattery. Smiling sweetly, she said: "You know I entrust you with this task because I have faith in your abilities, right? You have such talent as a distraction, that's what comes with frequent practice! Try to hold her attention long enough for me to snatch her scarf." So saying, she slipped away behind the curtain of white, camouflaging herself amid the thickest part of the fog.

Chat Noir watched her go. Though her red suit had only just faded into the mist two seconds ago, he was already thinking wistfully of her. _Right now, you're the better distraction by far,_ he told her in his thoughts.

Then he extended his baton directly upwards, taking him above the cloud of chalk. Schoolmistress was presiding over it; when she saw him, she glowered up at him. He beamed broadly back at her. "Hey, Teach!" he called, throwing her an over-enthusiastic wave that did nothing to disrupt his balance. "Are you sure you're properly qualified as an instructor?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Of course I am - how dare you insinuate otherwise!"

He gave a careless shrug. "I always thought that you needed a teaching certificate in order to teach; as far as I can tell, you are merely _certifiable_."

He was already in motion before her angry shriek reached him, closely followed by a cluster of blades. He purposefully over-balanced and let himself fall; he retracted his staff mid-way to the ground, turning his descent into a controlled tumble, so that she couldn't easily track his path. Dodging borrowers' cards was becoming second-nature to him. He was even almost starting to enjoy the little ' _fwoosh_ ' they made as they passed close to his hair. The breeze was kind of nice; it was a sunny day, a bit hot to be out in black leather (or whatever the heck his suit was made of).

The flight of her cards had the added side-effect of dispersing the mist she herself had raised. While Chat Noir sped around the perimeter of the roof, laughing and jeering as she threw one ineffectual barrage after another at him, nearly all the chalk-dust soon cleared - except for a dense patch that hovered behind her. Ladybug stalked through this thick cloud of white, one hand clamped over her mouth, the other clutching her yoyo in readiness. Chat Noir was doing a brilliant job of provoking and preoccupying the enemy, as always. With the akuma focused on him, she was able to wait for her opening, prepared to exploit it when it came...

As Chat Noir cart-wheeled playfully across the gables opposite, Ladybug saw Schoolmistress turn her back towards her position. _Now-!_

Swinging her yoyo in a series of quick arcs that swept aside the rest of the mist and gave her clear sights, she took a moment to find her mark, then aimed and threw. As the yoyo streaked through the air, its string coiled behind it, forming a deliberate loop. It struck Schoolmistress on the shoulder and caught there, dangling alongside the lapel of her coat; just as Ladybug had calculated, the end of the scarf dropped neatly into the improvised lasso. With a victorious smirk, she pulled-

Perhaps she had underestimated their opponent. Perhaps Schoolmistress was merely quicker in defense, knowing that her defeat would be imminent if she were to lose her talisman. With a shriek of indignation, she stumbled sideways; she only moved fractionally, but it was enough to pull the scarf out of Ladybug's grasp, her yoyo-cord closing on empty air. She hastily began reeling it in with a frustrated huff.

If Ladybug had one weakness, it was in her yoyo's mode of function: its trajectory relied on momentum, which often took a few extra seconds to set up. Schoolmistress had no such need for delay. Before Ladybug could recall her yoyo, the villainess unleashed a clutch of cards in her direction. Even with her weapon currently nonoperational, Ladybug did not feel particularly threatened: a series of acrobatic movements, performed as light as a dancer and nimbly as an acrobat, carried her out of the path of each projectile. Nothing to worry ab-

An ominous _crack_ came from behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder instantly told her where it had come from. Focused on the akuma, she had lost track of her surroundings. The large glass windows above the school's entrance were at her back, and Schoolmistress' cards now jutted out of the panes, transfixed by their edges where they had sunk deep into the smooth surface. Her shocked expression was reflected back at her as sheets of glass crackled and sheared, breaking into hundreds of razor-sharp fragments that were about to burst from their frames - and she was directly in their path!

She was fleetingly aware of an avalanche of broken glass tinkling as it tumbled towards her; then a black blur hit her with such force, it nearly knocked the breath out of her.

"Oof!" She latched onto Chat Noir, so that his impact with her couldn't jolt her out of his arms. Bracing his staff against the adjacent slope of the roof and extending it horizontally, he had propelled himself straight at her, tackling her out of harm's way.

"Sorry to sweep you off your feet without warning!" he playfully apologized.

She regarded him seriously, her gratitude for his save tempered by worry. "The glass! Are you-" she craned her neck to peer over his shoulder, checking the back of his suit for protruding shards; to her immense relief, she saw none.

He gave her a reassuring squeeze. It was only then that she realized how he carried her, cradled against his chest. "Don't worry on my account, my Lady. I pounced with plenty of time to spare."

They landed well clear of the window. He quickly set her down on the tiles without further comment. Neither of them mentioned the sensation they had felt in that brief snatch of time: both their hearts had been pounding furiously, and they had held each other close enough to notice it.

Ladybug found her footing, and turned - just in time to see a chalk eraser sailing in their direction. _Not again-!_ She wasn't in the mood to accept any more failures. Swinging her arm, she did what she had originally intended to do: she aimed her yoyo at the incoming duster, neatly snagging it in mid-air. She spun in a circle, like an athlete performing a hammer-throw. Chat Noir thankfully managed to duck the string that whizzed over his head with the force of a garrotte. She didn't halt the momentum of the eraser's flight; she simply reversed it, forcing it into a 180-degree turn. When she loosed the loop of her cord, the duster flew back the way it had come.

It struck Schoolmistress square in the face.

An instant before chalk-dust hid her from view, they saw the villainess splutter and fumble blindly, her glasses knocked askew. They could hear her coughing helplessly somewhere within the cloud. After the number of times they themselves had fallen prey to the same phenomenon, it was satisfying to see her get a taste of her own medicine. She could still dose it out, though: several bursts of card-fire came at them out of the mist. They leapt backwards to avoid it, landing atop the building that stood across the road from the school. Whatever move the akuma decided to pull next, they would be ready-

A strange thing happened. Though they still couldn't see Schoolmistress, she could apparently see them again; she sent another batch of blades after them. The pair had already raised their respective weapons in order to deflect them, but... as they neared, the cards suddenly spun back on their own paths and dropped straight down, as if they had struck against an invisible barrier. It was only then that they noticed the chalk-cloud had formed a straight-edged wall around the perimeter of the college; it seemed to be held back by some unseen force that stopped it from drifting in their direction.

Ladybug stared at it in surprise. "What on earth...?"

Chat Noir was looking down at the street beneath them. He tapped her arm, then pointed at several-dozen library cards that littered the gutter below. "They stopped where the street begins - they can't go beyond school grounds."

"Huh." Ladybug eyed the evidence thoughtfully. "This means she has no power outside the college. If we can lure her over here-"

Her words were interrupted by an angry scream. Schoolmistress had discovered her restrictions, and was howling her frustrations for all of Paris to hear. Through the last wisp of white fog, a violet, butterfly-shaped glow was just visible.

* * *

"Damn it, Papillion," Schoolmistress growled, "I am the high-instructor and head disciplinarian of all Paris! Why can't my attacks reach further than-"

 _Your own nature dictates the limit of your powers, my dear,_ the authoritarian voice murmured in her mind. Though his tone was silky, she could sense the displeasure beneath them - he did _not_ like being criticized. _Rather than rail at me, you can only blame yourself._

In the privacy of his lair, he gripped his staff tightly enough to make his glove squeak; this small action alone betrayed his anger. Though he savoured the power his Miraculous gave him, he also abhorred its limitations. It was all the more frustrating that these weaknesses were no fault of his own: they were foistered on him by his chosen helpmates. The villains he made were granted abilities that they themselves determined, and while that usually came with formidable fire-power, it also came with some inevitable drawbacks. He preyed upon the passionate, the distracted and single-minded; it was only to be expected that a mind that held only a single obsession should lack versatility. That was why otherwise-invincible denizens such as Climatika, Lady Wifi and the Bubbler were rendered ineffectual as soon as their weapons were snatched from their hands; it was also why Evilstrator and Pixellator had been so easily distracted from fulfilling his purpose as soon as their own demands were met.

If he could have designed the perfect champion to battle on his behalf, he would have done so long ago. However, he couldn't create something out of nothing. Only Ladybug could do that.

Instead, he was forced to work with what raw materials he had. Meaning he had to settle for imbeciles and make the best of them, extracting as much of their potential as he could, before his opponents managed to discover their Achilles heel and cripple them accordingly. Schoolmistress was no different. Since her call to arms centred around her role as a teacher, her influence waned as soon as she set foot outside of the school grounds.

He fought the urge to grind his teeth, clenching his jaw beneath his mask. He had run up against situations like this countless times before. The only thing to do was to work around it, guide his charge back onto a path that would render them useful to him still.

 _You must retreat and plan your coming triumph, Schoolmistress,_ he told her, effortlessly engaging the persuasive powers that his Miraculous only amplified. _You are learned and wise; surely you know that patience and prudence are the most invaluable virtues in any scholar. Your two star-pupils will not roam far, not while you still possess the students of this college as your hostages. Let their curiosity lead them to you; then show them that, as the saying goes, it certainly can kill the cat - and the bug as well._

Schoolmistress leered, heartened by his words. "You speak with such sagacity, Papillion. Class is far from over; before the day is done, the final bell will toll for Ladybug and Chat Noir, by which time I will have their Miraculous in hand. I'll teach them a lesson that they won't survive long enough to forget!"

With a strident swipe of her hands, she hurled several chalk-dusters upon the tiles at her feet.

Ladybug and Chat Noir saw the resulting plume of white obscure the entire top-level of the college. It took almost a whole minute before the breeze blowing off the Seine began to clear it. When they finally spied a patch of milky-blue sky beyond the school's outline, Schoolmistress was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

"Great!" Chat Noir muttered, sinking into a crouch. "She has the students of the college in her power, and she knows it. If we're to have any hope of freeing them, we'll need to tackle her directly, but she keeps alluding us!"

Ladybug frowned. Several of Papillion's past akuma-attacks had already focused on targets that were close to home. They were currently standing only a few roofs away from her own terrace atop her family's bakery; and her classmates were trapped at the mercy of Schoolmistress' vengeance. This wasn't exactly a new situation, but she certainly didn't like it any more for all its familiarity. All because of Chloe _again_ \- but it wouldn't do her any good to dwell on that.

She glanced sideways, watching Chat Noir idly twist the butt-end of his staff against the tiles at his feet. He didn't appear to like the situation any better than she did. _Why was that?_ Was it his cat-like impatience that made him rail against the villain they hadn't yet defeated? His moral aversion to a monster who used innocent - well, _mostly_ innocent - children as a shield? Or was it something more than that? Was he personally invested in the college somehow, just like _she_ was? She recalled her former suspicions about him being a student like herself. Was it possible? After all, he had managed to get into the classroom shortly after she had transformed; was his promptness due to the fact he had been just next-door? Sure, he'd had the school's ventilation system to help him-

"Hm..." Pushing her own conspiracy theories aside, Ladybug considered the school building carefully. "I doubt we can lure her out. She'd be stupid to head outside the school, where she knows she'd be vulnerable-"

"-and as she's a teacher herself, she's no dunce," Chat Noir succinctly pointed out. The transformation of a host into an akuma always affected their rationality, and sometimes their intellect as well - poor Ivan and Lieutenant Roger had been turned into hulking thugs who battered and raged almost mindlessly - but other villains they had faced had displayed an intimidating level of guile. Schoolmistress clearly belonged in the latter camp.

Ladybug nodded in agreement. "In which case, if we can't make her show herself, the next-best thing is to surprise her in her own territory. Perhaps we can use the school's ducting system to sneak up on her again."

Chat Noir rubbed the back of his neck, weighing her suggestion. "In order to do that, we'd need to know where she is concealing herself. The school grounds are fairly big, and we won't sneak up on her by simply bursting into random classrooms. With the place in lock-down and difficult to enter, we might only get one shot at ambushing her."

Marinette was silent for several moments. She had an insider's knowledge of the college's geography, but she wasn't telling _him_ that just now. If she could have some time to think-

Adrien was silent while he gave her some time to think, mentally going over the terrain himself. He was just as familiar with Francoise-Dupont as she was, but he wasn't going to admit that to _her_ just now!

After a second, Ladybug snapped her fingers, as if in enlightenment. "The chalk-dusters! The classroom we were in - it didn't _have_ a chalk-board!"

Most of the schoolrooms are fitted with high-tech smart-boards that interfaced with the students' own tablets and used touch-sensitive technology or projections, not actual _chalk_. She was about to tell Chat Noir as much - in an off-hand way, as if she had only fleetingly noticed it - but he was already nodding in agreement.

"That's right, chalk is considered really _old-school_ nowadays!" When she didn't favour this _very_ slight joke with any form of acknowledgement, he continued on, unperturbed. "If she can only use items she's actually picked up around the school, she must have got the chalk from somewhere... like in the library!"

A moment after formulating this brilliant deduction, he realized he wasn't supposed to know that the college's library still had chalk-boards - _Marinette herself_ had been writing their club-theme ideas on one less than 24 hours ago! He hastily contrived to look a little more doubtful. "I-I mean, libraries need a lot of space, so in heritage buildings like this, they're usually housed in the largest parts of the structure, which are often also the oldest. So that a library is the most likely place to find a chalk-board - right?"

"Right," Ladybug assented, trying to remain outwardly nonchalant. He was certainly right - _too_ right, she herself had used one of the library's chalk-boards just _yesterday_ \- and she didn't really want to know how he had hit on such an accurate guess. Her classmates already knew who she was; if he _did_ go to her school, she didn't want to deal with any more revelations just now. As it was, she would likely have to go through another one later on...

She turned her attention back to the task ahead of them. "If there's some way to sneak into the library directly from the outside..."

Eager to distract from his faux-pas, Chat Noir had already shrunk his baton down to palm-size and flipped open its screen, bringing up blueprints of the building with a few deft taps of his claws. "There's a shaft that runs straight from the south-east corner of the building to the library's main atrium."

Ladybug peered at the display over his shoulder, humming in satisfaction at what she saw. "Just what we need." She gave him a sidelong, impish smirk. "Shall we see if we can catch Schoolmistress in a moment of ignorance, Chaton?"

With a flick of his wrist he snapped the screen closed, grinning widely back at her. "I'm more than ready to insult her intelligence, my Lady!"

Sharing one more companionable smile, they both leapt off the edge of the building.

* * *

 _Author's note: sorry for taking so long! (I was joking before, I didn't mean to leave you hanging for as long as I did!) I've been really busy, and I'm still really busy, so don't ask when the next chapter will be, I have no idea. My other Miraculous story seems easier to update, since it's a series of one-shots; if you haven't already checked it out, please do, and badger me for more installments over there as well if you want!_

 _I had to consider the geography carefully in order to make this scene work. Technically, Marinette's house *is* the building across from the school, but having her land there in the middle of the akuma battle seemed like too much (anyway, I doubt she would lead their opponent towards her home - if she didn't avoid doing it, Chat Noir would put a stop to it!) Let's assume the rooftop they end up on is one of the nondescript buildings on the school's other sides (not the front, since that seems to be bordered by the Seine). The show's layout of Paris doesn't make much sense anyway, so what the hell!_

 _Smart-board and touch-screen tablet technology only came in after I finished school, so I don't know much about it, other than what I've seen on the show (I'm showing my age!) I hope I managed to get the gist of it for this plot-point._

 _I meant to explain in the previous chapter, I included Theo among the teachers in the staff room on a hunch. He apparently attends school - you can see him in the Animan bathroom-flashback scene - but since he has several part-time jobs and his own studio, I figured he was too old to be a student. Since he works as a sculptor, I imagine him to be an art teacher; since he was strolling the Champs Elysees during school hours in Pixelator, I figure he is a casual teacher (what Mireille was doing out of school at the time is another story; maybe they were heading to work at the tv studios together?)._

 _We've still got a ways to go, thanks for sticking around for the ride - hopefully we'll get there eventually, so keep hanging on! ~ W.J._


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Schoolmistress stalked through the upper level of the library. A shaft of light from the windows above fell upon her, accentuating the papery-white of her skin; showing the ink-black of her painted mouth in even starker relief.

She looked up and scowled, forehead crinkling like a crumpled page. With no visible effort on her part, her surroundings were instantly thrown into a murky twilight. There were sounds of stenorous creaks as shelves slid across the floor, aligning themselves according to her unspoken instructions. Somewhere overhead, heavy drapes rustled and chains clanked.

With a satisfied nod, she continued along the mezzanine. A purple glow suddenly illuminated the corridor in front of her; violet light blazed at the edges of her vision, as a butterfly-shaped visor flared around her eyes.

 _Schoolmistress, I applaud your dedication, but I would urge you to act with greater expediency. Though you may be dealing with underage opponents, it is hardly necessary for you to cater to them with such childish games._

Schoolmistress pouted, an expression that itself seemed to verge on an immature tantrum. "You know my methods, Papillion. Ignorance comes of complacency; even in this, I am making the most of an opportunity to impart something to the next generation. Though they may seem superfluous to you, you cannot claim that my preparations lack academic merit. My curriculum is set, and every unit of it shall be instructive. It would do you well to learn some patience."

She felt his anger seep into her mind; though he made no blatant outburst when he spoke, his irritation was tangible. _I have patience._ _Indeed, my dear, I could give you many lessons in patience. I could also offer you a refresher course in obedience. Do not forget who made you capable of all these feats. If I so choose, I could drop you back several grades - so do not force me to teach you some manners._

She felt her powers slip, start to ebb away. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, as if literally holding on would somehow keep it from receding. When she reopened eyes that she had shut tight in concentration, her manner was far more subservient.

"I... appreciate the reminder," she said, in a voice that was careful, cautious of causing any further offence. "It is not knowledge that I am likely to take for granted again, so please be at ease. Things are progressing just as I have planned. Ladybug and Chat Noir will soon be here. By the time they are through with the studies I have allocated them, they will be mentally and physically fatigued, just in time for my last test." Her lips quirked up, in a return of their self-assured leer. "When they inevitably fail, I will confiscate their Miraculous. With this final assessment complete, I shall graduate from victim to victorious, and you shall have the accreditation that you have sought for so long."

He allowed himself a smile that she felt in his next words, though they were tempered with a warning. _I look forward to it, Schoolmistress. Just see that you occasionally take your eyes off the books, in order to keep them firmly on the prize._

As if in answer to his command, a sound came from the floor below: the slight squeak of a metal grille swinging open.

Schoolmistress' smirk broadened. Her class had arrived.

* * *

The air duct came out in the central atrium of the library, just inside the main doors. They would have liked to emerge in a less-conspicuous place; but since the vents narrowed beyond this point, they had little choice but to disembark here.

They cautiously climbed out of the vent, casting wary eyes over their surroundings. After little more than a glance, they came to a standstill upon the threshold, surveying what lay before them.

In a voice that was barely above a whisper, Chat Noir said: "I think she's been expecting us." Ladybug only nodded in reply.

The lower level of the library had been transformed into a literal _maze_. The bookcases had been moved out of their neat rows to form a labyrinthine arrangement, all hard angles and abrupt corners. Books were stacked in haphazard piles upon the topmost shelves, creating fortifications that reached almost to the ceiling; these seemed designed to prevent any intrepid maze-runners from taking shortcuts by leaping over the walls.

Chat Noir folded his arms, wearing something akin to a pout. "How dare she! As if cancelling recess wasn't bad enough - now she's treating us like lab-rats!"

Ladybug couldn't help but giggle at his over-the-top petulance, though she was also less than impressed with Schoolmistress' redecorating. "Looks like payback to me; you shouldn't have made that fish joke earlier."

Completely disregarding her criticism of his humour like he always did, he grimaced at the library's new floor plan. "We shouldn't even enter this set-up. I'll eat my own ears if it doesn't lead us straight into a trap."

Though she was tempted to ask which set of ears he meant, she refrained, giving a shrug of slim red-clad shoulders. "It doesn't look like we have much choice. At least we know we're on the right trail."

"A trail of destruction," he muttered darkly.

"Then it's a good thing you're with me, Mister Cataclysm," she teased. "Is this grumpy-cat no good at puzzles?"

Her words drew him a little way out of his grump. He knew it was mostly frustration, mixed with a good dose of over-protectiveness. He didn't like the idea of Marinette - or himself, for that manner - taking a path that was probably littered with perils, only to arrive at a deranged mono-maniac at the other end. He reminded himself that this was by no means the worst danger they had ever faced; they had gone on similarly treacherous treasure-hunts before. It was amazing, what a change of perspective could do. An hour ago, if he'd been asked if he thought Marinette should be allowed to face down a supervillain, she would have topped his list of 'people to hide on rooftops for their own safekeeping'. Ladybug would have been at the opposite end of that same list. Was it any wonder that his current regard for her swung uncertainly between these two extremes?

He struck an attitude which, he hoped, came across as noble and intelligent; admittedly, he had a plentiful cat-alogue of poses to fall back on. "This cat is an ace at all kinds of riddles. You should see how quickly I can do a crossword!"

She chuckled at his unashamed show of bravado - how typical! "I would've thought such brain-teasers would leave you cross-eyed, or just plain cross." Examining what lay ahead of them with a critical gaze, she added: "We'll likely be walking directly into the cross-hairs, but what choice do we have? The students are waiting for us to free them, and the quickest way to Schoolmistress is the direct route."

He glanced sideways at her. Though her expression was self-assured and focused, she must be just as worried about their classmates as he was - for more reasons than one. "They're safe for now," he pointed out, "and we'll get them out of their locked rooms very soon. As for _us_ playing it safe - well, it would be un-feline of this cat to baulk at walking straight into the lion's den."

She smiled at the cat-reference, though it wasn't a very funny one. "So the bug shouldn't fear kicking the hornet's nest?" she suggested, coming up with an equivalent metaphor.

He gave a pronounced shudder. " _Everyone_ should stay away from hornet's nests - wasps are terrifying!" Glad to see that this managed to make her laugh, he piled on the bug jokes while the going was good. "Let's go find her, before she unleashes a swarm of spelling-bees on us!"

Smiling the lame pun aside, she moved towards the entrance of the maze.

He fell into step beside her, quickening his pace a little to keep from falling behind. She _really_ shouldn't have mentioned 'the view' earlier. Though it had been meant as a deterrent from looking, the suggestion was proving far too tempting not to follow! He was seeing Marinette in a whole new light - and, captivating as it was, it was more than just 'the view' that was making his pulse quicken.

As they rounded the first corner of the labyrinth, a new - well, not-so-new - thought doused his ardour with cold water. He had been so caught up in wondering what he thought of Ladybug being Marinette, he had stopped asking the question that so often preoccupied him: what did _she_ think of _him_?

An attack of doubts descended upon him, cutting at his confidence as keenly as any of Schoolmistress' cards. He had never been sure of exactly how Ladybug regarded Chat Noir; having to consider how Adrien got along with Marinette just made things even _worse_. All his misgivings about their attempts at friendship came rushing back. Could their first encounter - not their _first_ first encounter, actually their _second_ encounter, the first time they had met each other as _themselves_ \- could it have gone any more badly than it did? Sure, he and Marinette got along a bit better now, but... he was still a far cry from impressing her, which was what he _desperately_ wanted.

Speaking of attempts to impress her, what did she _really_ think of his humour? He always assumed that best case scenario, Ladybug pretended to scoff at his jokes, too focused on their mission to show how funny she really thought they were; worst case scenario, at least the constant stream of quips made her pay attention to him. Had he only succeeded in annoying her? After all, when Marinette wasn't acting as class president or putting Chloe in her place, she was pretty quiet. Until recently, she had let Alya do most of the talking when they hung out together.

Maybe she just found him irritating? Maybe he had already ruined any chance he might have had with her? Maybe it was better if he didn't sully his relationship with Marinette by telling her who Chat Noir was? _Maybe..._ maybe he should lay off the puns?

He had to suddenly leap sideways to avoid running into a wall, realizing where he was at the very last second. Hastily reminding himself of the situation at hand, he glanced sideways, watching Ladybug sprint alongside him with all her usual grace. _Well, it was too late to undo all that he had already done._ The best thing to do was to continue on as usual, so that she wouldn't notice the change between them.

He would preserve this - this special, precious, unspoken closeness they shared - right down to the very last second.

"I don't think we should stay in this place for too long," he said, without breaking his stride. "It appears to be all _booked_ out!"

Marinette let out a huff, rolling her eyes at her partner's attempt at a witticism. She turned aside slightly, on the pretense of scouting out the next corner, so that he wouldn't see the hint of a smile that she hastily bit back.

She would miss this. Much as his terrible puns often exasperated, she... kind of _liked_ them. She doubted she could have faced down so many perilous situations without him there to trivialize the danger; to make her forget how high the stakes were, enough for her to keep from being paralyzed by the constant pressure of having to save the day. It meant something, that he made that much effort for her; that he didn't hold back, didn't think twice about saying such stupid things in her presence (and some of them were _very_ stupid). He could crack a groan-inducing quip, knowing that her only response would be to roll her eyes and try her best not to smile. Likewise, she could neatly skewer him with the kind of pointed teasing she didn't normally say out loud, even in front of Alya; she knew he wouldn't take offence, coming back undeterred with just as many un-laughable lines as ever. There was nothing self-conscious about him when he was with her, and vice versa.

But when he discovered who she was... that would change, wouldn't it? It actually made it _worse_ that she was someone he had met before. It was bad enough that she might have gone from being any-girl-in-a-mask to a very specific stranger; but she was someone he actually _knew -_ he even had a nickname for her! How would he react, when he found out his 'Lady' was also his 'Princess'? Would it destroy all his trust in her? Would he resent it, the fact she had met him out of costume and never mentioned it, toyed with him and manipulated him without his knowing? Would he lose confidence in her? He _should_ , considering how hopelessly clumsy she was when her powers didn't allow her to do triple backward somersaults.

 _What would he think of her?_ Surely he would be disappointed that she was just _her_. She pictured his look of shock, face falling in disappointment, lip curling back in a sneer of disdain and disgust-

They rounded yet another corner, coming onto a fairly long straight. "I think we've got a pretty good read on the situation," he declared.

She shook her head, smothering the laughter in her throat. Whatever was to come, she would savour this experience, this moment, this comradery and partnership between them. It might be the last of its kind.

"It's not so hard to read between the lines," she answered, gesturing at the rows of shelves on either side of them. "Still, let's stay on the alert, in case there are traps or ambushes ahead. As we've already learned, Schoolmistress might not do everything by the book."

The low chuckle he gave filled her with an indescribable warmth. "Understood," he said in assent.

They continued to run the maze together, side by side, in step with one another, as much in harmony as they had ever been.

 _Who knew how much longer it would last?_

* * *

"Hey, Alya...?"

She had been sitting at her desk, staring numbly into space. At the sound of her own name she turned, wondering if this was the first time it had been called. She had been lost deep in her own thoughts, none of which had been very comforting; she was glad to have them interrupted.

Mylene was speaking. She was standing in the central aisle, half-leaning on Ivan's bent knee as he sat on the step above her. Rose and Juleka had taken over his usual seat; while Nathanael was perched on the edge of his own desk, every so often glancing absently at the tablet that Max held beside him.

"Alya, you..." Mylene was haltingly trying to ask her something. She could already guess the kind of question it would be. "You run the Ladyblog, and... y-you're Marinette's best friend, right? You know both her and Ladybug better than anyone, so, um... did you have any clue she was-"

"I didn't know her at all," Alya snapped. She knew she shouldn't take it out on Mylene - Ivan loomed over her slightly, unimpressed by her harsh tone - but she couldn't help it. She was angry at _herself_ more than anyone, for never noticing, not _either_ of them. Maybe she was mad at Marinette, which was probably unfair, but... what about _any_ of this was fair? Her best friend had been her favourite superhero all along, and _she'd had no idea damn it!_

"She... hid it from you?" Mylene ventured to ask, proceeding even more cautiously, but pushing ahead nonetheless. Rose and Juleka gave her the barest of encouraging nods, suggesting that they had collectively been working up to asking her this. "I mean, now I think back over it all, it kind of makes sense... b-but I thought, since you... uh, you know... maybe you understood it... better than the rest of us?"

She stopped abruptly, since Alya wasn't saying anything.

Much as she would love to wallow alone in her sense of betrayal - confused as she was as to who had done the actual betraying - Mylene's words started a whole new train of thought that was no more welcome than the previous one had been. _Had_ she suspected? Sure, she had accepted from the moment they met that Marinette was a bit of a space-cadet - and had loved her all the more for it - but... how much of it could be explained away by her best friend's need to keep a double life? She found herself reassessing everything she knew about Marinette. All of a sudden, even the slightest action or word took on the possibility of some greater significance. Every excuse she'd ever had for being late; every request for help with incomplete homework; every time she claimed to be tired from staying up working on a design; every complaint she'd made about being held captive by the latest akuma - they were all now parts of a greater puzzle. Fragments of a picture that she had been too distracted, too unsuspecting, too _stupid_ to notice before, but which was now coming into painfully-sharp focus.

"The history book." These few words confused everyone around her; they looked at her as if she had flipped her lid - which, perhaps, she had. She went on, speaking more to herself than anyone else. "She dropped her history book. Her school text-book. As Ladybug. She was swinging by the cafe I was staking out, and she just plonked her damn book down in the middle of the street. She couldn't have done better if she _wanted_ me to find it. It was the same sort our school has. I even did the research and found out we're the _only_ school in Paris that uses that book - it's a brand new edition that our college received before all others. I was so thrilled with myself for narrowing my search down to just the girls of Francoise-Dupont. I thought I was being _so_ clever! I even _joked_ that she wasn't above suspicion, since she had just recently 'lost' her copy. Of _course_ she had lost it - she'd just dropped it in the street, where _I_ picked it up!"

Throughout this solitary tirade, she alternated between making outraged gestures in the air, and running her hands exasperatedly through her hair; as her movements became gradually more irate, everyone around her watched her a little more nervously. "I should have realized it when she invited me to the museum straight after. _Now_ I realize she was luring me there with promises of some 'revelation' about Ladybug in an ancient scroll, just so she could take her book back when I wasn't looking!"

"Was that the same day as the Pharaoh?" Nathanael asked, breaking in on her monologue. When everyone - even Alya - turned to look at him in amazement, he flushed nearly as red as his hair, but held their gaze. "What? I follow the Ladyblog, I saw your livestream from the museum and I-"

"Yeah, that was the same day," Alya admitted, smiling wryly at the memory. "What did I say to the camera - 'I'm on the scene before even Ladybug'? Ha, if I'd only known! The only reason I was there first was because she was probably waiting until I was out of sight before she went into action!" She smiled unseeingly at the pink polka-dot bag on the desk in front of her, replaying the incident in her mind. All those things Ladybug had said to stop Pharaoh from sacrificing her... when Mari got back, she would have more than one bone to pick with her!

"She gave you an interview, didn't she?" Rose asked, breaking in on her thoughts again. "The one-on-one interview, where she answered all your questions? I was so impressed that you got her to sit down and talk with you like that! She-"

"No other fansite could compete," Max interrupted, statics from his tablet's screen reflected in the lenses of his glasses. "Your traffic went up by 127% after that video was posted."

"Tch." Alya managed a hollow chuckle. "I never questioned how she managed to set up that exclusive interview for me; I was too busy fan-girling all over her, in more ways than one. If I'd only thought to ask her how she managed to get in contact with Ladybug..."

"She knew." Everyone now turned their attention on Ivan, who glanced stolidly around at his audience. "She knew that... that I liked Mylene," he explained, with only a slight hint of a blush on his broad face; his girlfriend patted his knee, in both encouragement and reciprocation. "Marinette mentioned it in the locker room before school, said that I should... I should tell her how I felt. Barely anyone else knew back then, but Ladybug... she already knew my name, when she saved me the first time... and she had seen the note, the one that Kim wrote..."

The boy in question, who had been gaping at the opposite wall for the better part of the past hour, finally stirred at the sound of his own name. His eyes remained glazed, his mind obviously struggling to catch up with the implications of what he had learned; then he laughed wryly to himself. "Man, to think _Marinette_ is the one who saved my ass so many times!"

Alix, having long-since recovered from her own shock, was lounging on the bench beside him, leaning against his shoulder with her hands propped behind her head, as if he were her personal pillow. Now she reached back and prodded her cushion, elbowing him sharply in the ribs. "Don't go challenging her to a race - she'll whip the ass she saved, and slap you silly with her yoyo for good measure!"

Alya groaned at her words. "Can you blame me for not figuring it out? Have you _seen_ that girl in gym class? I swear she's fallen off a balance-beam a foot high and somehow still ended up on her face; she couldn't bounce _once_ on a trampoline and manage to land on the broad side of a crash-mat!"

No one contradicted her. Though the description was perhaps a little harsh, it was more-or-less accurate.

"Those earrings must be _very_ powerful!" Juleka said, her voice filled with awe.

"They're Miraculous," Kim quipped, causing Alix to punch him in the arm.

"Don't try to act like Chat Noir!" she crowed at him.

"Who _is_ Chat Noir?" Rose wanted to know, a glimmer of potential-romance already twinkling in her large blue eyes. "Surely Marinette must know, right? I'd love to meet him! He's an amazing hero, and he has the most _adorable_ costume, those little ears are just-"

"At least we know he's not any of _us_ ," Nathanael interrupted; like the other boys in the room, he didn't particularly want to hear the only male member of the heroic duo being emasculated by their cute-loving classmate. "I mean, he and Mar- er, _Ladybug_ are out there now, and we're all here, so..."

"He's not in our class," Ivan rumbled.

Rose giggled at the thought. "That would be _too_ much!" she said, though Juleka looked rather wistful.

"It's more than any of you sissy blokes could manage, even with twinkly jewellery!" Alix declared, blithely ignoring the four sets of eyes that trained disgruntled looks at her.

"Popular opinion seems to think that he is about our age," Max pointed out, a defensive edge to his voice. "Polls indicate that most Parisians believe both heroes are somewhere in the 13 to 18 year old bracket-"

"Mari turns 15 next month," Alya said quietly.

Mylene shook her head, making her dreadlocks sway from side to side. "She's as young as us, yet she's been out there saving us all this time... whenever there was an akuma - including one of _us_ \- she jumped straight in and saved us..."

They were all silent for a moment, letting it sink in. Marinette - awkward, clumsy, their-own-age, in-their-class _Marinette_ \- was a _superhero_. Though they had all seen proof enough of it to know that it was true, they still found it rather hard to believe.

Juleka had gone to the window, leaning so that the bang of purple-streaked hair over her eye swung aside enough for her to peer through the glass. "Are we, like, going to get out of here sometime?" she wondered out loud. "It's been a while, and nothing is happening..."

"Quite enough has happened already," Alya said stiffly. They had heard clanging metal, loud thuds, breaking glass, and frantic shrieks coming from the roof a few minutes ago. Though it had sounded like the akuma had been the one screaming - causing Alix to whoop and jeer, while Rose and Mylene dove under their desks with their hands over their ears - the white cloud that had surrounded the school soon after was hardly reassuring. They had tested the door when things had quietened down and found it still locked, so they knew the battle was still going on.

"They'll win," Rose said, indomitable optimism ringing in her voice. "They always win."

"They have a 99.6% success rate," Max announced. When Nathanael questioned the 0.3%, he explained that those were the times Chat Noir had gotten possessed by the akuma. Rose emitted a guilt-stricken noise halfway between a gasp and a gulp, prompting Juleka to put a comforting arm around her. Kim tried to casually clear his throat, pointedly ignoring the way Alix thumped him repeatedly on the arm.

"They'd better win," Alya muttered, clenching the edge of the book-bag in a fiercely-protective grip. "If that mangy cat lets anything happen to her, I'll personally put him in a bag and throw him off the Pont Neuf."

Rose squeaked at the mere suggestion of such cruelty towards a kitten; everyone else simply shared uncertain glances. They were all worried , though none of them dared say so - especially not in front of Alya. Even if Ladybug was a superhero, Marinette was _Marinette_ , and this latest akuma... despite the fact that she was actually their mild-mannered school librarian, she had looked pretty _gnarly_.

It wasn't like there was anything they could do about it. Besides the fact that Schoolmistress had locked them in, they were all just civilians, whereas Ladybug was-

 _Marinette._ Their class president _Marinette_ was a _superhero_.

They couldn't really blame Alya for not figuring it out. None of them could quite believe it either.

No one asked Chloe, who had grown quiet by now but still had her head down on her desk, whether or not she believed it. Given her behaviour of the past hour, she most certainly _could not_.

Sabrina was seated on the windowsill, staring straight in front of her. Though she must have been listening to the conversation, she was keeping her thoughts to herself.

As for Nino, he was still off in a world of his own, though the stunned look on his face very clearly said 'non-believer'.

* * *

For the first few twists of the maze, they didn't encounter anything out of the ordinary.

They saw nothing but one bookshelf after another, flashing by on either side as they ran between them. They passed one that Adrien was _sure_ he had been browsing when he had overheard Marinette standing up to Chloe for Sabrina's sake - right before they had taken on a giant hairdryer. Amazing, to think that it had happened right here, and it had been _her_ all along, though he had been oblivious at the time; she must have transformed just a few rows away from him.

Seriously, how had he _not_ noticed so many tell-tale magical glows?!

There weren't any lurking monsters in this maze, no minotaurs, no trip-wires or traps, and very few branching corridors. The fact that the labyrinth wasn't trying to get them lost only reinforced their suspicion that it led them right where Schoolmistress wanted them. Still, the way forward was clear, and they were moving pretty quickly. If they kept on at this rate, they w-

They turned a blind corner, only to find a dead end. As they skidded to a halt, the whole room shook.

They had been keeping an eye on the mezzanine that ran around the upper level, using it as a means of navigation; they were able to orientate themselves by calculating their position relative to staircase in the back corner. The path they had taken led right to the foot of these stairs, and it was from here that the ominous rumblings seemed to emanate.

Looking up, they were astounded - and more than a little alarmed - to see a huge boulder, more than five feet across and perfect spherical, tumbling towards them, bouncing higher with each step it struck. They were directly in its path, and there was no getting away from it, save by going back the way they had come - and that wasn't an option.

Despite his determination to forge ahead, Chat Noir took an involuntary step back. Physics might be Adrien's best subject, but he didn't need any calculations to work out that the giant mass would easily squash them flat. Despite the danger, the situation was almost comical; it reminded him of one of his favourite movies. "Call me Doctor Jones, but I think we just entered the Temple of Doom!" he wise-cracked.

Ladybug apparently grasped the film reference, though she didn't appreciate the joke any more than usual. "You may want to play at being Indie, but we are no 'raiders of the lost ark' - and a bull-whip won't be enough to stop that thing, let alone a yoyo."

Chat Noir brandished his staff, though he still stood poised to run if the need arose - and the need was rolling rapidly closer. "Should I try my best snooker shot? Though I don't see a pocket big enough to sink it in..."

Ladybug quickly glanced about her. She hadn't used her Lucky Charm - didn't want to until she absolutely had to, preferably when they were facing down Schoolmistress herself, the same went for her partner's Cataclysm - but if she looked around, maybe she would spot something that could help her. There wasn't much here, just endless shelves crammed with text books, teaching aids, other classroom paraphernalia-

A strange object on a nearby shelf caught her eye. It looked like a misshapen candelabra, its arms bent at odd angles - no, not bent, they were _curved_... almost like it was made for a-

She looked carefully at the giant sphere that was hurtling towards them, its distance rapidly diminishing. Its surface wasn't blank and featureless, like she had initially thought: there were lines traced on it, their pattern more exact and intricate than mere cracks or fissures in stone would be. They looked like faint outlines, though their various shapes were irregular, and all completely different...

She glimpsed a very familiar silhouette during the sphere's rotation, and her theory was instantly confirmed; she realized what it _really_ was.

"Maybe you can try your skills as a pool-shark after all," she told Chat Noir, pulling him closer so he could see the same perspective as her. She pointed to the sphere, which was still rolling steadily down the stairs at them, gathering speed as its descent gained momentum. "See that slightly darker splotch? There, it just turned this way; I think it's darker because it's raised and casts a shadow..."

"Yeah, I see it," Chat Noir said, though he didn't really see what it had to do with anything. So the boulder that would squash them flat had a mole near its belly-button, bully for it. Though at least it was an interesting shape; it almost looked like-

He blinked, wondering if he could trust his eyes. Adrien's third-best subject (after physics and history) was geography, and he could swear that mark was the same shape as-

"You see?" Ladybug asked; judging by his reaction, she was pretty sure he did. "How's your national spirit?"

Now fully grasping what she meant, he straightened to attention, giving her a smart salute. "If you like, I can whistle the _Marseilles_ while I-"

"I've heard it before," Ladybug interjected; it had been accompanied by dance-moves that were bad enough to shame the country. "Just concentrate on your aim."

By this time, the boulder was ten steps from the ground floor - given it was almost as many steps in diameter, that was far too close. Ladybug threw her yoyo, but didn't strike the sphere directly; the weighted end caught on the banister, stretching the line across the stairwell. Giving it plenty of slack, she paused as the huge sphere bounded closer, waited until it hit the string - then _pulled_. Despite its size, it shot straight up into the air, like an oversized pebble fired from a slingshot. It must have very nearly grazed the ceiling, turning rapidly as it arced upward. Then gravity overtook it, and it plummeted back down again.

Chat Noir instantly darted forward, positioning himself directly beneath it, with no signs of hesitation. He watched it carefully as it rotated menacingly over his head, waiting for a glimpse of that dark patch, working out his timing. At the precise moment, he lengthened his staff; it shot upward and struck the sphere on the exact spot.

There was an audible 'click', like a switch being pressed. A split-second later, the giant mass shrank down, becoming the same size as an average basketball.

Ladybug ran under it, catching it neatly in her outstretched arms. Turning it over, she held it up so Chat Noir could see the spot he had struck: an outline the exact same shape as the map of France. The rest of the world's countries were also traced on the curved surface. She carried it over to the strange object she had noticed before and slotted the globe back into its frame, where it spun idly.

They took a moment to stare at it, innocuously turning on its axis, having just threatened to crush them both. Then Chat Noir asked, "What was that all about?"

"I think," Ladybug said after a moment, "that was a lesson."

"A lesson in Newton's Law?" Chat Noir suggested. "That thing was a bit bigger than an apple, and my head is far smaller by comparison."

"I could argue that your head is even bigger - your ego is the size of the planet," Ladybug retorted. More seriously, she added: "Schoolmistress prides herself on her ability as a teacher. Though she wants to defeat us and take our Miraculous, I think she also wants to teach us a lesson, literally." She tilted her head back, gazing at the top of the stairwell, and the distant ceiling beyond that. "If she really wanted to stop us at any cost, she could have dropped that giant globe on us without any warning. Instead, she gave us enough time to figure it out."

"Not that we needed much time," Chat boasted.

Ladybug wondered if he remembered just _who_ had first noticed what the globe was, and drawn _his_ attention to it. "I think it was a test," she went on, "to see if we are worthy of completing her final 'exam'."

"Huh." Chat Noir eyed the globe thoughtfully. "Just as well I spent last night brushing up on whack-a-globe. Who knew that the subject had such practical applications!"

Ladybug smiled. "Hitting things seems to be your best subject. Just as well I'm a bit more studiously-minded! Come on, let's see what topic Schoolmistress wants us to study next."

Adrien fleetingly recalled that though he had topped the class in their last batch of physics and history tests, Marinette had been ahead of him in literature. Though he could probably blame photo shoots, clothes fittings, after-school tutoring, and foiling the odd burglary for not having studied properly, he was more than prepared to let her have that one. "Well," he said, "if we want better grades, the only way from here is up!"

Stepping aside, he politely gestured for her to take the staircase before him.

* * *

Alix was eying Max thoughtfully from across the room, a malicious smile that never boded well for anyone hovering about her lips.

"Hey Game-boy, didn't you go after Marinette herself?" she asked, answering her own rhetoric before he had time to respond. "She whipped you at your own game, both in and out of costume - it's a wonder there was anything left once she was done with you!"

She cackled delightedly. Kim abruptly slid up the seat away from her, dumping her off the arm she had been leaning on; she didn't appear to notice or care.

Max raised his tablet until it nearly hid his face. "Nathanael went after Marinette too," he pointed out. The boy next to him suddenly became very interested in his sketchbook; his face was so red, his hair looked almost orange by comparison.

Alya groaned loudly. "How do you think _I_ feel? I'm supposed to be both her best friend and her number-one fan, yet I _attacked_ her! I don't remember it, but apparently I trapped her in the kitchen of the Paris Grand and nearly peeled her mask off and locked Chat Noir in a freezer-"

"Shame it didn't make him cool it with the jokes," Alix interposed, chortling some more. Kim grumpily muttered that _she_ should stop trying to imitate Chat Noir herself, earning another poke in the ribs.

Alya dropped her head into her hands, kneading her forehead in a paroxysm of guilt. The sight of the pink polka-dot bag beneath her elbows only made her feel worse. "I was coming at her, trying to hurt her - _I_ didn't remember any of it, but I'm sure _she_ did! How could she ever look me in the eye again, after something like _that_?"

Rose leaned over the desk between them, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, I'm sure she forgives you - not that there's anything to forgive," she added, with typical kindness. "She knows better than anyone that it was the akuma, not you."

"That's right." Ivan loomed again, though his attitude now was far friendlier. "If anyone was going to get blamed, it'd be me. I was the first to get turned into an akuma. She could've easily thought I meant to do all that, climbing the Eiffel Tower and stuff, before she really knew what was going on. But she didn't hold what I did against me, not for a second." Mylene reached out and took his hand, worry in her eyes; he squeezed it reassuringly, letting her know that past things didn't bother him. More than one pair of eyes was drawn to Chloe, who, if memory served, had called Ivan a 'monster' and sparked Stoneheart's encore appearance. The girl didn't appear to notice the scrutiny directed at her; she was too busy getting a close-up view of the desk beneath her forehead.

"She's helped everyone out," Mylene said, perching on the bench beside Alya. "She stopped me from sliming the school, repaired my dad's hat, found out his colleague was stealing his job, ended his rampage when he was an akuma..."

Several people shuddered; they vividly remembered the Eiffel Tower being cut in half. Even if the monument had been in lock-down and emptied of people at the time, it hadn't made the spectacle any less unnerving.

"She got the photographer to re-take my photo and stopped me from turning everyone into clones," Juleka pointed out, Rose nodding vehemently in agreement. Several of the boys shuffled uncomfortably at the memory. That akuma's power had been downright _humiliating_.

"She made me an awesome banner and helped me fix my watch," Alix piped up.

Kim grumbled that he had been on the banner too. Before Alix could mention Dark Cupid - several people darted looks at Chloe again - Mylene added: "She took charge when the Dark Knight laid siege at Town Hall. She was always an excellent class president."

She fell silent. The past-tense verb she had used seemed to hang heavy in the air - _was_. What would happen now? Would them knowing make any difference? Would she stop being Ladybug now? Surely not - she was the only one who could purify Papillion's akuma!

"We can't tell anybody," Mylene said, somehow seeming to take charge of the situation. "We have to keep who she is a secret. She's done so much to protect all of us; now it's up to us to protect _her_."

Everyone made affirmative noises, nodding in agreement. Alix shouted 'here, here!', while Kim made a point of smugly raising his hand higher than she could reach. Max did a quick calculation, working out that if their class were the only ones who knew, approximately 0.0000049% of Paris' population was in on the secret.

Alya watched and listened to all this with a lump in her throat. Though Marinette had always gotten along fairly well with everyone in their class - aside from the obvious exception - Alya had often taken it upon herself to be her personal advocate. She had tried hard to build up her talented, pretty, smart, sassy best friend's self-confidence as much as she could. She had talked Marinette through her doubts, lent her unwavering support. She couldn't help but feel a little possessive when the rest of her classmates proposed to muscle in on what had long been her sole territory; yet it was incredibly touching to see them all rise up as one for her sake. This was far bigger than just being 'best friends'; that girl fully deserved to have everyone in her corner. She was _Ladybug_ , she was class president, and - most importantly - she was _Marinette_. The soft-hearted little dork who constantly risked being a doormat, yet could turn into an outright _dragon_ if someone she knew was being threatened. Who brought macaroons and croissants in for the entire class on a whim; who listened to Alya prattle on about the intricacies of Majestia's superpowers without complaint. Who had saved her from being crushed by cars and sacrificed by demi-gods, and let her copy her homework when she had been up all night finishing her latest blog post, despite having herself taken time out for the actual fight.

Alya absently traced shapes between the dots on her best friend's book-bag, wondering for the hundredth time where she was and if she was alright. Though she had often felt anxious for Ladybug during akuma battles, that was _nothing_ compared to this.

This wasn't Ladybug, the invincible hero - this was _Marinette_ , the _very_ fallible girl who just happened to have superpowers.

Right now, Alya was more scared than she had ever been in her entire life. She was _so_ proud of her best friend; she just hoped that she would be back soon, whole and unharmed, to hear how much they all admired her.

* * *

The mezzanine was usually open and airy. With bookshelves lining only its outside walls, the light that filtered in through the windows above made the space bright and welcoming. Now that Schoolmistress had 'renovated' it, it felt dark and oppressive. A single narrow passage led between towering bookshelves on either side; the skylights appeared to have been covered with thick drapes.

"Does she think we're afraid of the dark?" Chat wanted to know. The low volume he spoke at contradicted the carelessness of his words; still, he couldn't resist indulging in pop-culture references once again. "If she thinks it takes as little as that to stop our 'raid', she might as well give us our own Arc de Triomphe!"

Before Ladybug could respond, a muffled clanking sound came from somewhere nearby. Chat Noir adjusted his grip on his baton; Ladybug loosened another loop of her yoyo string, prepared to strike at the slightest provocation. "Don't count your arks before they're built," she said, in the barest whisper she could manage while still hearing her own words; she knew his super-hearing would easily pick it up. "We haven't seen the last of this crusade yet."

They instinctively slowed, proceeding down the cramped corridor with caution. Chat tapped his partner's shoulder and gestured at himself; with a brisk nod, she let him take the lead, deferring to his night-vision in the dim half-light.

They went only a few steps further when the loud clanking came from above them again, followed by a cacophonous rattle.

Ladybug stepped back and Chat Noir sprang forward, just as something heavy swooped, cleaving the air between them. Chat had to dodge again as a similar assailant came at him from behind; he only narrowly avoided it, giving an involuntary yelp as a single severed blonde hair fluttered from his head. He caught a quick glance of Ladybug's startled expression, before the first object passed between them again. They realized it was a heavy book suspended on a chain, swinging back and forth across the corridor like the blade of an axe.

"Forget 'Temple of Doom'," Ladybug said, using a quip to hide how unnerved she was, "this looks far more like a dungeon."

Chat Noir rubbed his head ruefully. Sure, it was just one hair, and better a hair than any other part of him; but it was still one hair too many - that had been a close shave! "No, not a dungeon," he corrected, "it's a pit - and those are the pendulums!" He gestured, not too expansively, at the passage behind him. Several more heavy blades creaked backwards and forwards in the gloom.

"The Pit and the Pendulum," Ladybug repeated. Given that the setting was a library, such a literary reference was more than appropriate!

"I know Edgar Allan Poe wrote a story about a 'black cat', but I don't want to be in it!" Chat complained.

Ladybug fingered the string of her yoyo thoughtfully, the volume of Poe's tales that she had read last semester running through her mind; a bit too macabre for her taste, but the illustrations had been sublime. "Don't worry," she told her partner, "Poe also wrote 'The Gold Bug', and that had a happy ending."

Chat Noir gazed at her inquiringly. Unbeknownst to her, he was remembering how they had both been assigned a book of Poe's tales as required reading one term ago; Plagg had been scandalized by 'The Black Cat'.

"But you're not gold, Bug," he pointed out.

She struck a confident pose, head tilted back and chin lifted in impudence. "I _should_ be gold - I'm worth my weight in it!"

He chuckled, conceding the point. "You _are_ \- and then some!"

"Speaking of weight," she added, giving the swinging blade between them a speculative glance, "do we dodge these things, or try to stop them?"

"Both are good options." Watching the blade ahead of him reach the pinnacle of its swing, Chat timed it carefully, took a deep breath, then sidled past it when it was furthest away from him. The air-current as it whooshed behind him swept his hair all to one side; it passed dangerously close to his tail.

"Careful," Ladybug warned, "there's not much space between them, and they go pretty fast." She slipped past the first book, pausing a few steps behind him; the second blade passed in and out of their vision as they gazed warily at one another.

"I think I'd rather stop it in its tracks," Chat Noir declared. Sizing up the book that swung between them, he weighed his staff in his hands, made a few quick estimates - physics was useful for _so_ many things - then stepped into the path of the blade and struck. It swung on its chain, like an over-sized piñata. Its momentum carried it to the side wall, where it slotted neatly into a gap in the shelf.

"Nice one!" Ladybug complimented, making him preen. After a pause to make sure the book was staying put, she stepped up to join him, eying the next obstacle in their path. "Let me try."

A well-placed yoyo-strike shelved the next book - for little more than a second. With a loud clank, both it and its neighbour hurled back out of their resting-places, forcing them to dodge either side once again.

"Why didn't it work?" Ladybug wondered out loud, her tone slightly peevish.

Chat Noir resisted the urge to show off the fact he had been better than her at something for once. "Maybe you need to properly show them who's boss, like you did those ones in the classroom," he suggested.

She turned on him, fixing him with a disapproving stare as soon as the blade between them had cleared out of the way. "Oh, you saw that, did you? Where were _you_ all that time? Watching the entertainment from the window, or perhaps from the air vent?"

He shrank back a bit - not enough to step in the path of the book at his back - grinning sheepishly at her. _Sprung!_ "Far be it for me to cramp your style," he said, trying to placate her. "I couldn't resist waiting until after the show was done before making my presence known. It's not like you needed my help anyway, you handled it purr-fectly on your own!"

"Hmph." Turning away from him dismissively - she would file that mark against him for later, perhaps - she surveyed the corridor around them, filled with the lethal-sounding _swish_ of swinging books. As the nearest one rushed past her, she made out the name of the author on its cover. "What a misuse of a perfectly good read! This one is a Jane Austen."

Chat wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I prefer mine thanks, it's 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.'"

Ladybug regarded him thoughtfully. "Conan-Doyle, right?"

He grinned happily, recalling the blissful, photoshoot-free afternoon during which he had devoured an entire treasury of detective stories from cover to cover. "Have you read them? They're brilliant - a bit dated, of course, but they provided the archetype for practically all mystery-fiction that followed, even now they're still really clever in th-"

"Hold the book-review for a moment," she interrupted. "Conan-Doyle and Austen... that's the order we tried to shelve them in, right? Do you think, perhaps, if we try it alphabetically..."

"Seriously?" he asked; he was starting to feel that Scholmistress was under-estimating them. "Great big, razor-edged books are swinging back and forth with enough force to make chopped-liver out of us, and we just have to put them back in alphabetical order?"

"It's worth a try," she answered, a little testily. It wasn't like she had devised this trap, at least she had tried to make a constructive suggestion...

He shrugged, and smacked 'Pride and Prejudice' back into its place, with enough force to let it know how tedious he had found having to read it. She knocked Sherlock onto its shelf with no such pettiness... and waited. Both books both stayed put.

"You read that well," Chat said, by way of apology. She simple rolled her eyes at him.

"Scout ahead and check out who those are by," she instructed them. "I'll wait here, in case 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' needs to go back next."

"Hugo, huh?" he said, darting past the tome in question, imagining Quasimodo swinging from a bell as he did so - every time he passed the cathedral these days, he had to resist the urge to transform and try it out for himself. "Good idea, I think it could be up soon. I see 'David Copperfield' over there, that should go first..."

They systematically worked their way along the shelves, hitting books as they went, taking care to get them in the right order. It was a strange task, compared to some of the other situations they had faced together - for the simple fact that it was not really all that bizarre. Once they realized what they had to do and set about it, the scenario took on an unlikely ordinariness and calm. Perhaps the location helped; dangers aside, all they were really doing was browsing through some books together.

"I've got Mary Shelley's 'Frankenstein' here," she called to him at one point.

"Hold on a moment," he replied, "I'm pretty sure I spy 'Tales of Mystery and Imagination' beyond that - looks like I was right about where she got her idea!"

At last, Ladybug slotted Voltaire's 'Candide' onto its shelf. The place was suddenly very quiet, no longer filled with the sound of books trying to slice them in half.

"I'm glad that's done with," Chat Noir said, stretching his arms and rotating his wrists, giving his baton a relaxed swipe in the process. "Much as I like a book on a rainy day, right now I'd prefer a light read!"

"And here I thought you only read joke-books," Ladybug dead-panned.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I don't need to - mine are all my own work! Hey, what do you call a walrus that runs into a-"

"I call it a need to brush up on your reading," Ladybug interrupted him. "Hopefully, the only joke will be on Schoolmistress - we must be getting close to her hiding place by now!"

Given the slightly pensive look on her face, Adrien knew that she was fully aware of what he himself also realized: the meeting room where they had held their class conference the previous day was just ahead of them.

Moving as one, they dashed along the rest of the corridor, easing to a stop outside a door marked 'Discussion Room'. They gazed grimly at the sign, glanced at each other; then, on an unspoken signal, they simultaneously rushed forward, bursting the door open.

* * *

 _Author's note: This ended up being such a long one, even for me! Just when I thought it was ready to go, I would think of something else to add, it kept on growing and growing._

 _Thanks to LovePuppy25 for asking in a review how the rest of the class would be reacting, that suggestion really helped flesh out this chapter. Otherwise it would have just been filler-ish content of Ladybug and Chat Noir fighting their way towards Schoolmistress. To be fair, it is fairly necessary filler; I didn't want them to just go 'oh, she's a librarian, she'll be hiding in the library' and walk straight in for the final confrontation, it had to be more of a challenge than that._

 _I might have taken a few liberties with the library's layout to make these scenes work._ _I'm not much of an Edgar Allen Poe buff, but I have a beautiful copy of_ Mysteries and Imagination _, illustrated by Harry Clarke._ _For anyone wondering, the 'whistling' mention during the scene with the globe was a reference to Chat's dance in the 'Mister Pigeon' episode; for Indiana Jones fans, there were also references to the first three films._ _I'm kind of proud of how I had Adrien act like an ordinary red-blooded teen for a few seconds there; and I have to say, out of everyone, Alix is becoming the most fun character to write, that girl doesn't have a filter on her mouth!_

 _I had a question from FangirlplusMax2.0, who wanted to know if I would include spoilers in future chapters that are published after season 2 airs. I can assure readers that I won't, for a few reasons. Firstly, I'm terrible at keeping up with my viewing schedule, with other shows and movies, and even with Miraculous - I still haven't watched the Christmas special yet! - so you'll probably see the new episodes long before me. As such, please be mindful of me and other readers, keep your reviews spoiler-free._

 _Secondly, this story was well and truly plotted out from start to finish (though I improvise a bit here and there) from the time the first chapter was posted. I'm not going to veer away from the plot developments I had already planned, I have no room to alter the course now that I've come this far, so the events of season 2 won't affect this story at all. Even if happenings in the official show contradict what I plan to write, I'll go ahead anyway - the whole point of fanfiction is to play with an alternate canon!_

 _As a little treat, here's some bonus dialogue that I couldn't manage to shoe-horn into that last scene with the books_

 _Chat: Well, at least she didn't attack us with 'Fifty Shades of Grey'._

 _Ladybug: Please tell me you haven't read that!_

 _Chat: What can I say, all cats are 'Grey' in the dark!_

 _Ladybug: *facepalm*_

 _Thanks for reading! Life has been busier than ever lately, and will likely stay busy for a while to come, but I'll try to update as soon as I can - I know you're all probably losing patience with my cliff-hangers (though I rather enjoy them ;)_

 _~ W. J._


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